| Monday, October 29, 2001 |
 | Fucking Matt. Fucking Matt. Here am I trying to write a mildly interesting and amusing piece for UpsideClown, and cunty-boy has to go and turn in something arsebendingly brilliant.
The seven of us there came close in to bathe in the blue glow that had meant not true but now it had an ugly tinge of truth, of death, and in a burst the room was cold, and we shook, and it was the brush of you past me I felt as we moved in - arm on bare arm - gave me an odd heat in my chest - so that I felt young, alone but at the same time warm - the tiny bumps on your upper arm, soft hairs stuck up, the touch of your flesh - like old was new - we knew as much as when we were born - babes - the touch of you - the sense of you - and the awful truth of that night - and we fell into each other, and we held each other, cheek to cheek, eyes wide, your tears on my face - as the world fell down.
Wanker.
0 Comments:
| |
| |
|
Venusberg.org finds Blogger very attractive...
|
|
|
elsewhere:
Interconnected
Plasticbag
Oh Skylab
Barcablog
Orbyn
moreover:
Brainsluice
Mo Morgan
Mothninja
Tajmahal
Wherever y'are
Prandial Post
thereafter:
Toby Kay
McCargow
Blogadoon
LinkMachineGo
Methylsalicylate
Hammersley
Joeblog
Grayblog
the Collective
Nick Jordan
Kooky Mojo
Betty Woo
Moth
Mr. Thomas G
the author:
danATvenusberg.org
and finally...
the archives
|
