Monday, March 30, 2009

You can Jaun-dice or you can jaun-dat.

we clasped fluoresecent hands. I dont remember for how long and I dont remember why, all that comes to mind is the humming, it settled me, coating the lining of my stomach with elevator music.

"Sometimes I think of your hair as a meadow."

"No you dont."

our hands had lit up the ground , we saw ants scurrying away....pieces of candy with a thorax.

"I really do!!! Then I think of my tongue seperating itself into 4 segments, id run it through your hair, they'd be garder snakes you know?

she drew in the dirt an image of what was just described along with a pellucid flow that stopped just above my ears.

"Thats my spit, I was kind of thinking it would be the stream near the meadow."

The realization hit me just then, i'd been the only one with a fluoresecent hand, she merely had jaundice....still I hung the portrait she'd painted in my cerebellum, next to the chesterfield within the granular layer.

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