then again, we could
the phone burrrrrrs off the rest and I burn off the rest of the days shadows with a match
Sulphurous
we could be lovers, i suppose, but what for, really?
for fun, for conversations about penguins and sharing meals
smile and wonder if he would say that if i were a terrible cook with a patio
with no thyme and chives and i laugh while i hang the mirror
we could be lovers without fun, or friends without passion, why waste both by being greedy - i ask
i would never ask you to choose, never promise, never lie
surely saying never is a kind of promise, slip slidey shale beds lay quietly, blueloaming, after all
i am not sure i understand
no, i am not surprised
snipping foil with scissors is so very satisfying, so sharp.clean and perfectly blunting and i breathe and breathe and breathe still, hearing the sea in the reciever, my breath soporific on return
{amongst the escape the retreat of wordmemories; he shouts about the car and i crumple inside ~ for the differences balance on a cottonthread on an eyelash and now, now again i am crying like a bruise, like an apple bruise and shaking so badly, and all over the car}
don’t say love, don’t say love, don’t say love
why are you afraid of love, love is lovely? , love is strong, not snap.brittle, not prinkling and shardish, it bounces, like a vinegar egg.
but look at you. you are in so much pain and all for love, all of it, for love.
ah! o no sweet you no no. nothing to do with love
ob leigh gaysh un that is all, and bricks.
Yes, it is rather a lot about bricks and
you are small, come here, come and watch television and I will make you toast and draw squiggles on your arm with the teaspoon handle, the way you like it. I will hold your feet and watch your face while you think about things and i will listen to you. come here
i have to go now to the river
i have stones to swallow
i will see you soon
.
