Thursday, February 17, 2005
Tell Me Your Game
~
Sleeping naked, I dream in Spanish, surrounded and confronted by crazed and unknown roomates, sick landlords and a repairman who grins knowingly in my general direction when I pass him on the street. The outside world is blurred sometimes when the machines park too close -- other mornings a pure, busied light wanders onto my crown, ruffled and trampled against a soft warm pillow. I tiptoe across 1930's marble and wonder about the heel-toe-heel it's lived over the years. Quietly, I drift to sleep again -- it's somewhere edgeing nine and footsteps pace before work, over my head, but the sounds muffle by the time they tickle my lobes. Breathing under the ficus I know that Thursday will bring with it the ripeness and scents of a glowing weekend and five days ending well. Fresh fruit, water and tea, the leather receives me to relax, read and hear the sun trickling in through the double panes of a world outside and -- for a short while -- yet untouched.
S*
2005.02.17 21:20 p.m.
Sleeping naked, I dream in Spanish, surrounded and confronted by crazed and unknown roomates, sick landlords and a repairman who grins knowingly in my general direction when I pass him on the street. The outside world is blurred sometimes when the machines park too close -- other mornings a pure, busied light wanders onto my crown, ruffled and trampled against a soft warm pillow. I tiptoe across 1930's marble and wonder about the heel-toe-heel it's lived over the years. Quietly, I drift to sleep again -- it's somewhere edgeing nine and footsteps pace before work, over my head, but the sounds muffle by the time they tickle my lobes. Breathing under the ficus I know that Thursday will bring with it the ripeness and scents of a glowing weekend and five days ending well. Fresh fruit, water and tea, the leather receives me to relax, read and hear the sun trickling in through the double panes of a world outside and -- for a short while -- yet untouched.
S*
2005.02.17 21:20 p.m.
