::And Now The Storm Is Inside.
He holds himself in the manner of a man unsure of his body and what it can do, under preassure.
It's autumn. She holds an umbrella, more as a disctraction than some vague form of protection.
He sits without moving until she fires bubbles, images and kusjes.
He falls as death comes at him on a sleepless night.
He sees himself in her, lying down in wet clothes, cold and steaming, waiting for hot-chocolate, drained of poetry...
at the end of another season.Now Playing:
Sacrifice (Elton John)- Rebel Rebel (David Bowie)- Best served with:
Caffé Latte or Hot fudge.
.:Lo wrote this at: 5:20 PM:.