Galleymore - Significant Other

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Book:
Significant Other
Author:
Galleymore / Isabel
Publisher:
Carcanet Press Ltd
Genre:
Books / Detective and thriller
Year:
2019
City:
Chicago
Rating:
5 / 5
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For my parents

Contents

We are training each other in acts of communication we barely understand. We are, constitutively, companion species. We make each other up, in the flesh. Significantly other to each other; in specific difference, we signify in the flesh a nasty developmental infection called love. Donna Haraway, The Companion Species Manifesto

Wasnt walking beside her walking with the ocean below when you didnt know her and wanted to? In that heat, along that path you hesitated at a slug, beached like a tiny grey whale thirty tonnes and seventy years of navigating the continental shelf assumed by this soil-scuffing inch and what would she make of you? The ocean blinked. Say you took that step, or say you fell, wouldnt she move you miles in herself?

creeps like expired meat fizzy-skinned, pentamerously-legged, her underfur of sucking feet shivers upon an immobile mussel whose navy mackintosh is zipped against the anchor of this fat paw, this seemingly soft nutcracker who exerts such pressure until the mussels jaw drops a single millimetre.

there was a question of how close to come to nature without being eaten, but as the town fussed to build a fence someone likened their hands to crows, their stuttering heart to a common toad: to be at one suddened the air.

Rain fell on their faces and with it they were one, one, they said, with the rivers and stones, one with the riverbanks wig shops of moss, with the prickliest gorse and its bees bright as liquorice allsorts: at one and lost as the woman wrapped in her lovers arms who accidentally kisses herself.

The too-hot winter sun. No cloud. I glanced up to find we were finally by ourselves and had been for a while. Hadnt we desired to be alone those times we flirted with seeing human forms in trees? Some evenings we gave over entirely to making the moon one of us.

A road sign with a fire warning in its breast, a house built for coming weather on stilts and taking off, smoke, the landing gear pressed under.

from eight million differently constructed hearts I couldnt I chose to love them all the squids triptych of pumps, the snakes cardial sac, expanding as it eats.

To say nothing will come between us, to stay benignly intimate was sometimes not calling was easier sometimes Id forget to touch you and you, and you a natural phenomenon dwindling one of a dozen breakups from the world each day like the others it seemed youd just popped out for a pint of milk and now nothings conjured hearing your name.

In the double-dark of the sea at night, a shoe of shell bears a belly-foot that bears an appetite and so invites a dozen to generate a vertical queue, a carefully organised high-rise orgy with her, its founding member, its queen sticking to the ocean bedrock, as smaller, younger males shuffle on top and when shes tired of the day in day out rut, when her gills have breathed their last, her nearest male inherits her sex two moons and hes bequeathed her duct and yet hell remain stuck on her empty bone slipper, departed Cinderella.

Like a single branch of ash honed to the handle of an axe and made to take the hand of a woodsman as he throws his body weight to fell all the ash has sown, I turn your words although the line you spoke was simple

In one unfamiliar town I ask a stranger where the small red bus departs and, told youre almost thereit leaves from where the elmsonce stood before the road was paved, I end up searching for some past felling, an old yawn in the earth although Im told the only chance of love is via falling. How easy it is to walk past.

For those who want to invest in disasters, the INCH pack includes a sling-shot, fishing rod and tarp. It stands for Im Never Coming Home.

Walk into the woods and dont look back. I learn this from my neighbours watching of Doomsday Preppers at full volume her octogenarian ears believe everyone is mumbling. On the street she leans in uncomfortably close. They say such impairments come by degrees. Well be right back with Brians missile silo. I give up on my book, fill the kettle.

Being steeped in his keepers routine, the owl anthropomorphises himself upon the plinth if we put a female in with himhed still make love with the hats on our heads hes been here twice as long as Ive been captivated by you, like him I dont think of myself as possessed until one night, loosed to the world, I find myself expecting everyone to be your kind of kindness.

An enamelled flower bud, a locket made of shell, a lacquered fingernail treehoused upon a wormy stalk that wags as though to say not quite or not exactly so and this is only one of whats a fishy copse undulating back and forth as in a gale and asked what land they grow upon theyd likely say no land, and asked whose hand they reach like fingers from theyd likely say the hand of some stray branch that, dipping in and out of water, persuades their beaks to open, their feeding limbs to royally wave.

They say its because Im afraid to be alone.

What good is saying heart, when you can say heart like a little wine barrel, or heart like a red squirrel. I am most like myself when likened. He, for example, has made me realise I can climb, jump between trees.

On a dozy summers day, a donkey magpied a lions skin that the hunters had left to dry in the sun. What else had the donkey to do, but chameleon himself inside it? As he swanned across the paddock in his new ferocious fur, the horse began to mouse, the hare grew chicken-hearted, and the chicken hared away. How good it felt to shark among the shrimp, he thought, and let out a proud hee-haw The daisies widened their eyes.

Mid-run, the chicken stopped. The hare, and then the mouse, dared themselves to look. Finding not claws but hooves, each turned upon him and, as any true animal would, parroted a short teaching on natures true and fox.

Isnt it shocking how he speaks for her? His thin voice wavering across the restaurant shell have the cod artichoke bake. A giggle of bubbles comes from behind them: a fish tank curtained with seagrass where a seahorse is tying itself to one of these slim, tweedy forms like a hand shaping itself inside anothers the way my hand tucks into his like a difference pretending its not.

the heart aflame no longer shines any light on love because they are always together because they are always together its hard to see them apart like the blade in the blade of grass two lovers grew so close they became too fluently familiar having lost what makes fire fire.

Having lived this long with one another, we know days face, days hands so very well; the way it touches and likes to be touched; can, in the most part, read its mind, so when we hear that day is only playing along that day has a plan to abandon us we brush it off as gossip.

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