Raisa + Ksenia by Elsie Lappoh
from issue 02




Raisa was saying 
that Ksenia’s voice sounds like a delightful ringing of bluebells to her, even though irl those would not produce any sound at all. Did not matter. A ladybug was laboriously crawling up to her elbow and disappeared instantly AS I BLINKED ONCE. 

Anywhere she goes, Raisa is walking her grunting pug with an all-enveloping gaze, full of affection. She looks at the creature as if the pug was her only child, the last child on earth. And she was the only mother.*

*Anywhere she goes, Raisa is walking her grunting pug. She looks at the creature with an all-enveloping gaze, full of affection. As if the pug was her only child, or the last child on earth even. While she was the only mother. 

When the camera went off, she would first place the dog on her lap and then on this high bar table. Raisa’s legs resembled branches of an old weeping willow – they were drooping, almost touching the ground but not quite getting there. Her lips were dry, burgundy colored. Her dog had a graying muzzle. 

They formed a perfect union.


A flicker-free HMI studio light was softly spotlighting this woman from behind. I really wanted to hold her hand then. Raisa’s hair had a pearly glow to it, which made me itchy like
pearls were falling from the sky, onto the ground. Yet scraping her presence & MINE,

like 
accidentaly
burning her shoulders, & MINE: bony and sun-kissed 

(((with their cold breaths.)))
like

smell of seashells, 
      yuck & yum. 
               & glow. 
               & sunshine.
                      I don’t know what to say:  
 Raisa. 





Ksenia had thick fake eyelashes alongside permanent makeup eyebrows inscribed into her Slavic visage and was wearing a fluorescent green down jacket. No one knew what brat was back then but Ksenia knew what Brat 2 was. She knew the flavor of this movie by heart and was reciting it with every move and utterance of hers.

 
But what was she? 

Ksenia was an opera singer. Her voice was slightly hoarse as she would utter:

“I would rather conquer Viennese karaoke bars while sanitizing my vocal chords with pear or plum schnapps in between songs, than step onto this filthy Volksoper stage.”

I notice a few sparkling* bobby pins and a silver barrette hiding in her lemon blonde hair. The kind of hair dye that is setting your teeth on edge. It's hard to think of the possibility of a lemonade, for all three of us. 
*A SPARKLE OF A FEW


Ksenia continues:
 

“This is the year of the absolute and utmost chill. Fuck nasty opera nerds, I am done with that shit forever.”


She has a turned up nose, which she scrunches up.

-nose scrunch so cool. hashtag nose, hashtag nosescrunch. 

Ksenia is not using TikTok but she cares about the Body Language of Nose Crinkle, Nose Turning or Nose Shrug - Nonverbal Body Language Dictionaries, etc.

And while doing so she also mistakenly reveals her teeth that she has been hiding all this time. I notice the void in place of the missing canine tooth. Yet Ksenia is not capable of keeping her mouth shut, she has zero secrets. 

I LOVE THEM BOTH. I HATE THEM. EVERY GOOD ARTIST IS A SMALL BPD MOMMY, I THINK.

RAISA AND KSENIA WERE ARTISTS THEMSELVES. BORIS WOULD DEDUCE THAT, I BET.











I want to bulldoze half of my room and a husband

Raisa’s current husband has gray hooded eyes, cooling down the fluorescence of her green jacket. 

We are all insolvent. God gave us potential and we have been squandering it in this dark place. Karaoke of dry pearl hunting.
I giggle. Dead mollusk. 




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