novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the sly and i have noticed that i like to test those who are interested, those who i look at and do not immediately understand. we gather information about each other by engineering various conversational disasters; i fashion a meteor shower out of the tooth marks on my thumb. i am taking my time. we are sitting on a concrete replica of the moon. i am sliding sideways off its face, he is running fingers over the cuticle of my right thumb, declaring me a nail biter. that's the cuticle. not the nail. (there's something closer to the bone about that.) we learn about centrifugal force and he will not stop singing phil collins. i am wondering about tom collins, tom toms and pom poms. but i'm a cheerleader. i feel like the businessman who listens to NPR during his morning commute and somehow decides he likes trip hop thanks to morning becomes eclectic. my heels lodge in a larger crater of the artificial moon. i gather balance and notice that there are no birds out this time of night, just some trumpet player practicing underneath the freeway overpass across the street 9:46 am - 02.20.05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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