Communicator, cooker, drinker, poet. Grew up in a mining town, wore a hard hat.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

it seemed as though i would give up

and somehow, through some measure of fate, i'm here. sitting at an open window, typing.

the store was a mess of things: cloth,
shelves and earrings, brightly
coloured relics of a decade made more
than broken and the man behind what would
have been a counter asked if we were
sisters. we weren't and admitted so.
the virgin soap, he said, makes you sweet
and young again. mah girls, he said. you'll
have to come back.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Get on with it already. Some of us have been very patient..WRITE!

Anonymous said...

i agree with this anonymous person above... uhm yes... do it..

oh btw.. its nina.. heheh...