01 June, 2012

Look homeward angels, west of Bathurst, and fall in love with me.

Gossamer blouses, threadbare cotton, all the body’s shade. Cut-off shorts, lacquered and frayed, trailing white and bias, twin smiles. Breasts tan and untethered, shaped like kinds of fruit. Languid bodies,  imagined easy love. Breeze tickles hems, flutters hearts, quivers knees. Oblique, close, poignant, deep and silly and sadly unalone.