six months? or is it seven? it's been that long.
there's nothing special about him.
there's just that drugged glint in his eyes when he looks at me.
and the awkward look and smile.
the way his teeth are like.
the way his eyes are set.
finding him was like fishing a boot out of the ocean, learning in time that it was Tim Burton's. Or maybe Alex Kapranos'. Or Linda Perry's. For most people, i know, the chance of setting eyes on someone like him is like the chance of an elephant to have a single calf borne. Or finding cocoa lumps in hot chocolate. that orthodox. that conventional. that's so not me.
as for me, i know, finding him was like stumbling across toenail clippings from Marcus Augustus in a pile of desacrated fishbones in a room and learning that the walls are scribbled with the decipher of life. pretty much nirvana.
the moon and stars.
you mean a lot.