Don’t forget there are two ways of being yourself…you can either show the straightforward picture, or else what is called the negative.
In the latter, light and shade are reversed; To the unaccustomed eye it seems ugly; But the likeness is in that, too, all the same.
you think you saw me first, but i did.
lazy cigarette dangling from ironic lips
and i fell as hard as your ashes fell soft
while you
oblivious you
slid casually from F to an unknown key.
my surrender was complete
but was it sexy?
but never mind about that now.
i remember when your gaze followed mine
and traced my form on the ceiling
and your wild stories gave me empty/fitful/love-/heart-aches
and i couldn't tell day from night
forgive me.
but i had to write this my dear.
because i am drunk my sweet darling.
no i'm not being sarcastic.
i had to write this because by next year,
i would have forgotten
the smell of your sweat
or your morning breath
or how you'd instinctively hug me if i snuggled close to you,
even in your sleep.
because bawihte, i'm writing to forget.
so let me soil it little by little
until there's nothing pure left.
come to think of it,
i've already forgotten
the rough feel of your tongue on mine.
her warm, cold, bearable, lovely, lonely, beautiful, concrete.
that she still carries hope of 'home' for some, someday..
In the Hall of the Mountain King
Wanderlüst in Hard-Boiled Wonderlünd..
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A spring time study11 years ago
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Of Beginnings and Endings12 years ago
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