Thursday 20 November 2008

drive straight

don't stop
my hair falls into your soup you churn it
 my hair
you spin it into candy floss pluck at
the soldiers on my arms I think of seeing hair- 
golden brown sentinels- lining your back and I felt 
like you were human too.
--
Liquid sunshine mango juice dribbling across her shoulders it is nice always nice to see
the happier one explode
--
deterministic / probabilistic
lunch with  a stranger who spelt out his name- 
not a stranger at all then?
and he ate and I thought about the fine balance of two nose pins and an unbroachable unbreachable divide 
and he ate and I talked about macro discourses and my uneasiness
and he ate and I wasn't hungry at all
and he ate and I left and this is it a lunch with a stranger where I did not eat at all.


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