Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
but it is in my head and am i compelled to realise it, so it is my silmarillion, my tempelos
the textwall is as much for me as it is for you
"No, it'll get cold!"
"Put a tut ahh put a-"
in a post. I want to be remembered
no longer writing in the third person
There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
Windrush Art Kid Oligarch
currently
"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."