singpowrimo2016
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It is the waking step you miss dreaming. The gap between the train and platform, just big enough for your thigh. An empty desk in class with flowers atop, like a crown. What you find when you spread her legs, look in her eyes. The end of pages in a book. When your teeth eat
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your footsteps form a steady beat, like a god-be-damned EDM bass; inhaling and exhaling in a trance, hoo ha, hoo ha; the fucking sun needs to chill the fuck out; wow your sports bra is as brazen as my nipples; an ear-bud dangles like a tendril; now your shoe-laces are coming loose but stopping only
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Can we exist within and without each other? Is that what you seek to test? No, I am not dodging the question. I’m just skipping it for now – an exam technique. Solve what you can, come back later. No, that’s no metaphor for us. No, you won’t get points for fancy language. Frame it
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For singpowrimo prompt 12
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Formatting is weird on mobile, I’ll change this to text when I go home.
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Love is that brute that killed Caesar, that unfaithful disciple, that Buddhist, Shi Ming Yi, caught for conspiracy: a liar, a cheat – human. (cont.) It is the counting of flower-petals, the Tinder chats, the Grindr photos: words spoken from one spouse to another and another other. Love: it is the sore lack of space
ugly stage 