"Steel on the skyline
Sky made of glass
Made for a real world
All things must pass
Waiting for something
Looking for someone
Is there no reason?
Have I stared too long?"
-David Bowie, "Heathen"
For example: When I was
younger, a teenager, I took
things that didn't belong
to me or maybe anyone
change on coffee tables
or road signs covered
in vines, holiday decorations,
bicycles. I stopped
for no righteous reason, I
simply grew away from it. Well,
One night I fell for a bell
shaped compulsive liar in
an attic bedroom. Her
complexion absorbed light
passing through the skylight. Her
stories don't make sense and the
people may have never existed, but
understanding was not a part
of our love. Sometimes I would
catch her slipping into fiction, and,
obviously concerned, she would leap
to kiss me, springing from her hands,
the same hands that slipped my
possessions into her purse. A
forty-five, a wooden pipe, vintage
clothes and shot glasses. Two years
later and I'm not sure if she
took anything with her.
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