In the end it was all a cliche. Friends were never needed after the jump:__from the boat, into the ocean once went, I felt flat feathers pressing in my neck. That's how. Friends were never needed for the trip: I've come here to meet you and share a space of clarity, and knowledge. Won't you join me, no matter what face we show each other, let us dance, embrace into comfort, and in passionate forgetfullness disregard a sex.
Who I'd like to meet:
Friends with all the right qualities of friends, et cetera.
Playing: A young boy, seventeen, interested in the French language, aspiring to a spiritual way, scratching up poetry if there's time, reading in caution, forgetting the t.v., attending his Senior year of Highschool, repeating a head stance, ending with "yours, Dennis" to lettered vagrants; special, scratching the scalp at the sight of a Hate, wishing, living for utilization outside of realm of God Utility, in fear of America, but NOT, sleeping with winter attitudes, resting in writer's beds, giving a heart for a Dame's life, talking over coffee in a corner of a Coffee house, eating bean burritos, conversing with a Canadian over Catholic school uniform fashion, kissing the air, breathing out -- finding no thing to inhale, but catching a bird, tired and gone., seeing another's face in the mirror