many women in my life told me they prefer me drunk.
only one said she wants to see me 'high' on hashish or weed.
ah, maria... i miss your friendship, any trace of you will do.
maria has, i remember, a colour tatoo above her left brest, like a star of david, only with seven points. she had it done when she met that italian motherfucker 13 years ago, the love of her life, the one that ruined her life?
i smoked some, that night, obligingly and went to lie down. i imagined she was an israeli sniper shooter, so accomplished that she got all four targets in one assignenment, and look i must be special somewhat if i'm dating her, cause that tatoo is a medal.
i went to sleep upside down, my head towards the door, and when she came to check up on me i heared her and jumped a meter up from a bed hearing someone appoaching. and there was that sudanese hand-crafted knife underneath the mattrasse.
but i'm too rational to become addicted to anything but on a woman in my life. the one that needs help. the one that can help me. the one i feel i deserve.
it's sultana now. it's getting worse all the time.
Post je objavljen 13.05.2008. u 15:05 sati.