you understand? when my dream is populated by ten thousand ash-blond heads looking here, looking left and right, i am sloppy in dress and downhill walking, looking behind and seeing none, but to the left and to the right they are sharing beers in cupboards, and sleeping together with sand on their scalps. i wanted to pick some, enticed and tricked by their lively bodies.
i thought: "i might strike god across the forehead of the perfect woman-friend."
but on steps propped with balsa sticks i drifted forward and awake
with dust on the tongue and digital camera hands, shit. she sees me but does not believe it, yet.
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