lord of the meanderings

toilet fushing next door as she coughs and then chats to the cat….

it’s never going to become what it was so only automatic writing can give the pretence of becoming pre-conscious….

how lovely her vulva in my mind , the hairs above and around, the soft wetness…

guaranteed to be the only idea that ever gasped without laughing…chosen spoken queues filling the empty streets with  an image…