Monday, 11 April 2011

Whatever get you through the night, it's all right, it's all right.

thanks loui

She was dressed in red; I should probably have heeded this sign.

Her skin shone with the temptation of unpicked fruit, her hair - the colour of early morning sunlight lying on fresh fallen snow – had been frozen and then combed.

It was something her father in Romania had taught her.

We embraced, I was clumsy; she was strong.

Her perfume offered intoxication.

And ruin.

Her name was Sylvia.

And then she left.

I sat at the table; a microphone; an empty glass; a photo frame of random images stuck awkwardly with glue, someone opposite.

Others gathered around, there was silence and I was thrust a scrap of green paper, faded and covered in incoherent script.

I was glad she was gone, yet I longed to see her again.

No one told me to begin and no one informed me of the camera’s rolling or what to say.

I mumbled, trying to find a voice – after all, what did they expect?

I asked for a drink, someone poured; I looked at the photo frame and read aloud what I found.

It made no sense, yet every sense.

Unwitting Universe.

You drank my wine.

You ate at my table.

And now I will pursue you into hell.

Some applauded.

Others stood in silence, in the dream, which is so hard to capture and hold still.


Anonymous said...



Anonymous said...

who else is anonymous I am because I am technically challenged but I sympathize this time - Gosh and why thanks Loui x

popps said...

Who else is anonymous - well, there's a question.
It depends which one you are, how am i meant to know?
By the way, thanks to Loui because he took the picture.

Anonymous said...

what the...gosh dont understand

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