I don’t know if it’s the heat but I am so hungry for love. Almost every woman I see sends flames through me. Distracting flames full of sensuous and non-sensuous daydreams.
Of me immolating myself upon the altar of cunt,
Us sat across from each other at a restaurant
Laughing as she burbs.
Many women inflame just the lust and I know this. Well I learnt this on the bus on the way back from work.
There was this girl sat at the front talking to a younger girl. She had a dizzying, white pallor to her skin.
A face that reminded me of Helen Bonham Carter in “Fight Club” or “Harry Potter”. She didn’t look at all like Helen Bonham Carter it’s just she had that “ness”, that ineffable quality that drew the character of the character behind Helen Bonham Carter’s face to my mind.
It was like here was something untameable, dangerous; something not of this world and because of all this glorious.
She was incredibly sexy but there was something above and beyond this.
She shone in the twitch of her eyebrow as she discoursed through expression to the pre-pubescent beside her. There was something real and alive about her.
I probably stared at her a bit too much… Or not. Alas I shall never know… or I might.
I pressed the bell at my stop which was her stop and as I walked down the bus-aisle she smiled at me.
Can you believe it? That’s the opening to conversation. If you want someone not to talk to you you disengage eye-contact and you definitely don’t smile at them with an open face beaming a light like the moon on a cold night!
But the butterflies got the better of me. I bypassed the opportunity and like the crustacean I am scuttled into my shell of agonizingly comfortable anonymity.
And walked before her with my mind in glare…
Oh woe is me and my stupidity! What was to be lost but what I didn’t have anyway? What was the risk but a red face that would disappear in the waves of temporality?