/                    o    o   o(h)     my catherine!

and how the ****
did this happen?

   walking to an off-lice,
allowing about three people

to exit,
  
  and then she pops -
right into my face...

    i'm like: huh?!

    and she starts talking to me,
uninhibited (since she's tipsy) -

i really don't have
the language to explain in detail
what happened next...

i was looking at a woman,
but i was walking around
in a museum,
   as she showed off her piercing
and
      tattoos...

she asked me if i minded,
i said now,
   and spoke of the sensitivity zeitgeist
currently gripping the mob...

clearly an opening line with
  can i touch your beard?
sure.

so i extended my index and pinky
finger
while she showed me her
blatantly (i.e. in summer shorts)
exposed legs -

as we talked and i measured
something obscure...

    the eye caught my attention
given the intricate detailing
of it on her: skin -

   almost...
            dispossessing her of a body...

hence: like i already said -
i was looking at a woman's body...
but i was walking inside a museum...

some madman in the background
was shouting slur words
coinciding with filth!

            so i asked her to follow my eyes
in a language that reiterated:
don't mind the white noise...

and as her female friends implored her
to come with them,
   i reiterated their plea with
a single finger raised to the air -

   one more instance...

      how often... can you actually part with
an absolute stranger,
   having kissed their hand goodbye,
and later their forehead?

i thought she would know how
eastern europeans do... the "french thing"...
a man has the obligation to
kiss a woman's hand -
    why are these english women
   adamant to make a similar gesture?!

catherine didn't steal my heart:
she stole my gesture!

               a woman isn't supposed
to kiss a man's hand!
   a man is supposed to kiss a woman's hand!
no wonder i retaliated
  by gently grabbing her head
and kissing her forehead...

   it's not a ******* two way street
   within the confines of kissing a hand!
and if it is?
     ****... that's dog talk:
don't bite the hand that feeds?!
          
what did i do afterwards?
   bought two belgian beauties
  (leffe)
    and went into a darkened field,
just beside a curated
   example of what a forest
might be...

                   in a perfurmery of
wheat, freshly cut crass
                               and horseshit...    

farted into the earth, akimbo poised,
drank the belgian beauties
          (anno domini 1240)...

                slept for an hour,
             woke up, and wrote this.