outwait outrun outwit





TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


05.27.04, thursday afternoon

I was mad at him a few days ago so I walked the same road. Not one word was spoken, not one person encountered. I peeked into the same lonely sheds. They weren't lonelier than when I last saw them. I guess I'm older in that way.

I watched a peacock butterfly flirt at another. It was missing part of its wing. Missing one blue eye. Did the other notice? She shied away from him, kept her wings folded so that her eyes were sleeping.

Later I had a chocolate sundae capped in ginger crumble; a pleasure, secret and necessary.




<<

hosted by DiaryLand.com

free
web stats