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I was sitting there quietly waiting for you to speak your turn so I could steal more time to use my eyes to admire you in sparkling skin-tight navy jeans and a black shirt with the top three buttons undone and a fuchsia jumper, and play the part of the impassive listener so interested in what you had to say. But I just like your face and your accent beyond words. And when you say that your mother is fifty-four and still turns heads in the street, I begin to wonder if other people's heads turn to see you along with their hearts and lungs and stomachs and all the parts of the brain responsible for reason, and then continue to revolve like circles are the new straight lines and there are no other forces in the world save the glitched gravity that stops you soaring up to heaven like a holy firework.

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Absconding Life London, UK

Not-for-profit experimental music project. Any money received by me will go directly to a registered charity of your choice. If none is specified it will go to this month's charity: The Orchid Project.

Please see the Tumblr post linked below for more information.

P.S. Hello Genevieve, I love you. You are great.
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