Sunday, 11 July 2010

a girl's take on l'amour fou


In your checkered shirt with your long black
hair you looked just like Jean-Pierre Leaud
with Paul Newman's eyes I could have met
in East London

The only thing I've ever really desired is to
be permanently fascinated

I don't own myself anymore

You grow like algae in my
blood, I smell like algae

I can't go to bed with anyone else

memories of traces of saliva

People like you and me end up the same
height when they make love

soft and white like a girl

I don't care about film festivals

When you're stroked, you just stroke back, it's normal