playing. atomic/blondie

no helmet sensation today
only a neon smell

Nina gets out the old keyboard
unnecessary but her fingers want
the comfort of the plastic keys

he had cushioned her & traumatized her hips
had insisted that transition was still possible

outside, a large tracker unit rolls by
its blinking lights turning the raindrops
pinkish-white
silent deaths
his lips

she felt cold, & almost wished she was huddled in a cafe full of people warm with drink



~~~


Over our life - then shalt thou, smiling, touch the keys, And draw me softly with thee into Paradise. --- ee cummings


~~~

whatcha doin?

watching 'Willard' on the idiot box

claustrophobic fur smothering victorian fear

LoNeLiNeSs

write something

crumbling

prism of rain *** whisperling,

stop. the world is hateful and you know it. i am sick of it.

no you aren't. remember that time we ended up in the other space because the TR malfunctioned. how we sat on the naked beach watching the strange bird like creatures swoop down into that odd shivery silver water to catch whatever it is they were eating. how we laughed at the odd jubilant trilling sounds they made while flying back up into the sky. how you sat perfectly still as my mouth found your neck.. the cave we slept in.. the things we wrote on the walls..

~~~