corrina page is a fictional character made up entirely in my imagination. any resemblance to real people, places, and/or things is completely coincidental and should be taken as such.
WARNING: The following may contain adult oriented material.
jan 00 | nov 99 | oct 99 | sep 99 | aug 99 | jul 99 | oct 98 | aug 96 | jul 96 | may-jun 96
with open arms and a smiling countenance i embrace you, awaiting the moment when
i can plunge my canines into the soft flesh of your throat and initiate you into my world...
nov 30, 2002
lay down with me and let's die together. the valley is hot and humid during the day, but in the evening the shadows lengthen and blacken the hills and darkness settles like a blanket - soft and thick - smothering the life out of both of us. i know you want to feel my skin, see the shape of my legs, feel the warmth of my hips up against you. i know you sleep under a sheet of stars plastered onto your ceiling and you pretend you're somewhere else. they glow in the dark and keep you from fear, but you want more.
i close my eyes and see you near. if i breathe softly you won't disappear. if i reach up my hand i might even get to touch you for a second before your ethereal form escapes again. i try not to move for as long as i can so that you'll stay with me. when the sobs rack my small frame you twirl like smoke and vanish. you refuse to be my lover. you haunt me during the night and forget me during the day. i worship you, but you're unattainable.
nov 29, 2002
your obsession feeds my obsession, but you're a fictional dream. you keep me from falling; you keep me sane. if i harden my heart and stay inside, then everything will stay the same. but i am not soft and my heart is not hard; i keep drifting with the current and it returns me to you. i ask you to sing and you tell me some rhyme. you ask for my name, and i tell you the same. do you know what i keep in this box that i keep under my chair, under my desk, under my feet because it's size is so great i can't keep it anywhere else? i don't know either, and i've lost the key that i've been given but refuse to look for it. sometimes i talk in riddles, but i think i speak too clear. i say too much, but say it too late and you've already left on your horse. give me back my ear, please i asked you nicely, but you refused and now i can't hear. speak my name just once and let me feel your voice. befuddled, confused, disorientated. words are like sticks you build a little house out of. pull one out and the rest come tumbling down. the others branch off in all directions - you never know which one to follow. i write and you listen. i type and you read, but you have no idea what i'm saying because it's not real. don't think of specifics - this is a dream. this is what i offer and this is what i am. a gentle soul and a misguided heart not looking for you, but something i imagine of you. love is a knife that cuts you in half. love is fantastic and often not true. come back here on your horse and let me feed it an apple or two. rest on my lawn while i hose her down and then i'll feed you, too.
nov 28, 2002
if you wrap your arms around her, where do they meet? does she sing you songs and dance in her underwear for you? i wouldn't either. but i'd make you garlands of lace and pour flowers on your feet because that's where they belong. and you'd bring me my dinner on a platter painted black with roses adorning my food. i'd eat the roses and feed you the meat. you'd tell me stories and i'd write you songs; you'd teach me your language and i'd whisper in your tongue.
nov. 27, 2002
i watch her scratch her knee from across the street. the pale, flowered dress she wears has an orange stain on the hem and is frayed around the collar. i know because i sat next to her on the bus while she read from a thin book with a black cover and small print - i couldn't read it from where i sat. it could've been a condensed bible.
i wait for her to move in the right direction - there's always a right direction, just sometimes you don't know it, and she hesitates. i know she's lost and not sure which way to turn. down valencia there's muddy's, up valencia there's muddy waters, but she's not headed to either of those. she's looking for home in a foreign city on foot walking sidewalks she doesn't know and hoping, hoping that someone'll be there for her. find her lost, and make her found.
she doesn't carry anything with her. her black book and worn dress - not even a sweater to keep off the chill later in the evening, though it's been warm lately so she'll probably be fine. i want to wave to her, just to say hi. i've been where she's standing right now and thought the same thoughts. so fragile. so unaware. she doesn't seem to know it, but she's beautiful.
nov. 26, 2002
i wonder if you think about me. have i gotten under your skin? tell me a story because you've heard all mine and i've run out of things to say...
nov. 25, 2002
you looked beautiful today. the sky across your back like the night in a dreamscape, like a void into which we could fall. forgetfulness. escape. the sea at my feet lapping my ankles. and you beside me on the sand.
nov. 24, 2002
do you know that my thoughts are consumed with you? that few moments pass when i'm not thinking of you? that you are the focus of all my attention? how i dress for you, carefully brush my hair for you, how i write for you?
sometime today i was lying in my bed and imagined you there next to me. you whispered french in my ear and i blushed and curled up closer. you stroked my hair and let your hand rest in the curve of my waist. my skin is so soft - you love to touch it. your voice is so near, i can't help close my eyes. you will disappear, but i don't want to see it.
nov. 22, 2002
i know you're watching me. i wait for you every day. i imagine you are my lover. but i don't know you. do i know you? you obviously know me. you follow me around the block, keeping a safe distance, but i can feel you like the air across my skin. my back tingles from your stare. i walk straighter, i walk slower, hoping you'll want to catch up and walk next to me. are you shy? i'm not shy. and i'm not scared. all it takes is a hello and i'm yours.
nov. 21, 2002
i dreamt of you. i dreamt that i was asleep with you next to me. you lay on your side, and you traced your fingertips across my chest, my ribs, my stomach. i woke and you said i was beautiful. i woke and found you staring at me. i woke and felt your warm breath on my face; your eyes so adoring i smiled.
but i awoke and you were gone. your body no longer radiating heat. my arms are small and barely wrap around your physical form. now they wrap around the air where you were, where i imagined you were, and fall empty. the bed sheets are crumpled. your clothes are not on the floor. you've left me for someone else. you have no idea how i mourn.
nov. 20, 2002
i thought you were free, but you're not waiting for me. there's someone else. your hands are large and gentle, but they will not touch me. underneath my skirt today, i wore pink lace in the hopes that you'd see it. underneath my skirt today, my legs were crossed beneath me, my feet resting lightly on the ground. your eyes are dark and intense and i want them focused on me.
nov. 19, 2002
skin flushed and warm from the glass of wine in my hand, smooth and silky down my throat. shorn hair littered by my feet. long black hair like the night swirling underneath, a dark pool of myself. my eyes don't waver, but they don't see. inside, my stomach is raw and hungry, my heart beats too fast. i'm waiting. waiting. quietly, not knowing that the one i'm waiting for is waiting for me.
books lay scattered on the desk, handwritten notes like sheet music cover the surface. i read, but don't understand. hand grips the pen and my nails dig into my palm. i wish i was somewhere else. with someone else. a blanket to cover us both.
electra's web © 1996-2003 all rights reserved
this file was last updated 12/30/02, 03:04 am