I wait for you with falling night in my eyes
Taut, slender, dark, alluring
Life passes me by
Tie it up, your free flowing darkness
The light, it hurts...
The morning paper feels crisp. I take the inky smell. I love the smell of old pillows, yellow books and your discarded clothes. I love the smell of first rain, of damp earth and the dampness between the legs. I hate spines. All my books are spineless, split down the middle, just like me. There was a time when the pouring sunlight reminded me of a brand new day. Now it makes me afraid. Another day, fruitless, maimed, demented is about to be born. I am sorry I cannot write about all the positives. That marketing guy... what's his name now...? He tells me I should be positive. I should think positive, eat positive, even shit positive. Trouble is, I forgot his name.
