The twenties will receive my middle age
got married and woke up
all Capone and art deco; brightin
love it was three days almost.Young
things blowing policemenkisses since I'd
got my coat and licked
throwing off the robes of
mascara from an upper lip and
the great wear. I am thirteen, I am sweat
from your back. We'd donesitting, I am allowed,
I chucktalking about plastic and the why
-in my flat-cap - and finding tipsit
feels against skin. There,a travel kettle.
Cruises arereally much to say so we fun bledmass
fashion and pretend theankles instead and sat in
thoughtswhen real is fake from chinaand the other left.
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2 comments:
Is this an admission that you're prematurely middle-aged?
In small enough writing this would fit perfectly on the back of a bus ticket. Stagecoach, mind. They're seldom blank, however, and the gloss of them... there is some other quality to them that causes the writing to fade. I don't know what it is.
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