Notes from outside the conservatory

Oh, the smell. The scent of a woman. Different ones buried into my senses. Unearthed from time to time. Designers making memories. Forcing me to relive time. How many lovely hearts smell like Calvin Klien?

One fork. One spoon. One plate. One cup. One knife. One pot. One pan. One man.

All the pretty girls pass by. The ugly boys sit and stare. High fives and tongues their mothers should have long since cut out. Oh pretty girls, stay pretty. Laugh in your coven's. Don't mind the corpse's, their fishy smell should make it simple. Find a pretty boy, tell him you're dead on the inside.

Dine alone. Wine alone. Drive alone. Sleep alone.

Fell into a crowd. Someone buzzing in my ear. Buzzing, so happy. The crowd buzzes so happy. My age is honey from my pores. Flew out to bright clean air. Bees and flowers, desperate for pollination, I leave you to make your love.

In your mind, don't pass me by. I don't pass you in mine. We visit and laugh. Sometimes make love, like teenagers in fact. You have the softest hair, you know how I love hair. Cold between my fingers, calms my bones. Day after day. Year after year. Make the bed in the morning….I never did before. New year after new year. New day after new day. Make my bread, dry my tears in your hair, in my mind.