I hate the way you move your hips when you walk. Watching that natural rumba from across the room makes me long to drink my drink so deep that the gin fuses with my consciousness until I become the juniper berries whose only desire is the warm sun, the cold ground and to grow UP.
I, however, remain firmly rooted to the ground - drunk with desire but too drunk to do much.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
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2 comments:
This is awesome. I think it's briefness gives it everything it has. It makes me feel human.
i think you can go two ways with this. there is so little that it might be better cutting it into stanzas and creating a poem. Another way you could is expand it into something a little more. But that might take away from it.
either way, great work!
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