“A filigranic rubber-twisting kid. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, he moved as if he was from a different specie.”
I wish though that the Method Acting innuendos stayed there and brought more up.
my… Bristol friends in their moments of true torment. This is how I imagine them to be, beyond the garishness of house or circus after parties. A caring balance act of friends as they carry each other’s darings and insecurities through the night of life.
A recurring image as dancers jump and twist with ecstatic denouement then die. People dragging their dead loved ones around like precious bags of memories. Very touching but sometimes hard to watch; …emotionally.
ah now I finally get it! that’s why they called him Vader. Darth Vader – the dark invader. With his nazi-style helmet, stomping through your snowfall dreams, gutting you.
Not a cute card or a kissogram. [….]
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.
As if it’s happening silently. Hands passing calmly under sweaters. Feeling the smooth breathing skin under it.
“Only a big yellow dog had mercy on me – humbly walked up to me and ate up my heart, taking his time. Then he left, moving away towards the horizon like an enormous sun flower”. (Doina Ioanid)
The brow was indeed quite grossly spread up. When awake. rarely down. Though it’s the left eye. A very sketchy hint to otherwise quite obvious shadows. So it’s surprising it’s not turned down more often. But maybe the wind. Or the light touches. Whomever’s.
A languid tongue face lick! That’s what I’d have given that woman had I been in Rox’s place. As she was so closely shoved in their bosoms that it was beyond embrace.