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Wednesday, January 28, 2009

she stares blindly, phone at her ear, the wind's icy carress lifting the hairs on her arms and on the back of her bare neck.
she listens intently, absently thinking;
wordless communication.
or was there no communication at all.
her mind wanders to hams and eggs.
perhaps she is a chicken. perhaps they both are.

five


ten




twenty minutes.
she realises that their sudden display of patience is yet another game of "Say 'Uncle'".
she recalls the countless times that she has said "Uncle",
and is once again trumped by the self-created, self-induced state of mind that is Love.

she's not here @

11:25 PM