pylon-spined ~
she is so much taller than she remembered.
A past lover once balanced an egg upon his open palm
‘I spin,’
he stated, spinning slowly, ridiculously in his courderoy jacket of pavements and people
‘The egg remains still.’
and that minute rise of his top lip that made me despise him so very much
‘Do you understand that your theory is wrong yet?’
and then to stop with both arms out, palms to catch clouds that would splinter and pierce the air with his shocking waves of genius
-george, the egg is moving
‘I can see this is beyond you’
we had sex and then he left in his surprising toyota while I smashed eggs in the hen house
