Friday, May 8, 2009

Stop staring, start gearing.

He buzzes like a fridge, he's like a detuned radio.

He was like a beam of light or a star so bright from afar that blinded me right in the moment of the glimpse that I've caught unexpectedly, almost like a pretense but something so close to perfection. I'm lusting bashfully in my own shadow, in an empty corner, though I know I cannot get that far. This doesn't seem to make any sense at all. Only that I liked it a hell lot.

And so, she wonders.

Wonder girl, do you know what you're thinking?

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