Flowers, solo.
Turning down, so that I could recalibrate. Field Work. Things look up. Bumping into you, you, and oh you and your ginger hair. The World Cup mania at the Quay, on Arab Street, but I get bored at the 25th minute; the game I used to play, and used to really love. All I … Read more
Day of Love
Mascara on my pinky. Watching you grow up. Letting you back into my life. Four Hour Marathons. Feeling – beyond the numbness and the dull despair. Night of Swapping. You’re singing these songs, thinking This is The Life. Day of Love. Eight glasses. Peking Duck. Too much coffee, again? What is So Easy? Subs. Brainstorming … Read more
