She was shaking and talking louder and louder. Each sentence was sifted to a very fine powder. Her face was wet and tight, her grip was cold and light.
she went over to his apartment. clutching her decision. and he said, did you come here to tell me goodbye?. so she built a skyscraper of procrastination.
Second intermission. Anticipation. You know the third act. Small talk drops out of the play. You're standing in the lobby. Tightening your tourniquet.
You're my seeing eye dog and I am blind. You take me there every time. With that winning combination of loyal and kind. Your eyes like wells to the water of your mind.
Yes,. Us people are just poems. We're ninety percent metaphor. With a leanness of meaning. Approaching hyper-distillation. And once upon a time. We were moonshine.
Pavlov hits me with more bad news. Every time I answer the phone. So I play and I sing and I just let it ring. All day when I'm at home. A defacto choice of macro.
He caresses every bottle. Like it's the first one he's had. Saying. It ain't love. . But it ain't bad. It's the only reward. Bestowed upon me. And I have served faithfully.
I cannot name this. I cannot explain this. And I really don't want to. Just call me shameless. I can't even slow this down. Let alone stop this. And I keep looking around.