novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- smoking people often forget to open windows and so the circulation comes as a relief once the pane is pushed and the air sleeps in. the door's been closed for far too long; it was getting stuffy, but no one noticed because humans have the overreaching ability to adjust to their environs. that's how you look up one day, open a window and inhale fresh air, and are shocked. last night when i was sitting on the back stairwell smoking i glanced down at the pads of my fingertips, and found lines there. lines that didn't go away once i stretched my hands taut. i wonder if i'll live enough to have my hands seared with wrinkles but their skin so soft that it feels stuffed with feathers over bone. just like grandma's hands which were set to fire recently. she wants to be sprinkled at sea. someone else's grandmother was shot out of a cannon at sea, but mine is more basic. she just wants the undulating tide and the porous grease spots floating on the surface to suck her up. 2:25 pm - 02.02.06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||