Friday, July 9, 2010

Moving up and so alive in her honey drippin' beehive.

Beehives and batwings don't tame well, she says. 

C'mon, try to tame me, beat girl, he says. You know, he left her. All by herself. "Tell me that you care." She sobbed into her coffee cup and on the front of her Shang-hai dress all buttoned up the neck. She told me one day, 'there's nothing in the world that takes care of you.' 

"There's no man in the world who takes care of you." Over coffee, with half a pack of methols left, fresh from the beauty shop. There are two more dead every second. He beckoned, but knows no kind of rest, and I had him where I wanted him. He was beggin' me to stay and I just walked away; I heard those chelsea boots click away, hair espalhado.

I heard that sound of the motorcycle fade off that cliff. The cigarette ash dropped from between her cherry polished nails. Those curlers lit on fire when the lighter when bang. What a stupid little girl. Batwings and batting her thick fake lash, looking at me from those Egyptian eyes.She knew a whole bunch of stuff like that. 

But she barely told anybody.


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