i'm not proud of nicknames...
but then again,
i find nicknames to be
the archetypal form of
endearment -
a "belittling" with warm
affection...
i didn't have a nickname
in primary school...
the girls tried,
rabbit...
Danielle...
i remember Danielle calling me
rabbit,
why? the way i ran...
jumping in between
running steps...
i like Danielle,a brunette,
with enough freckles to
make her a vixen ginger...
high school?
Goldilocks
named by Graham...
or Chewbacca by Barry..
i was the only man attempting
to grow long hair..
a mullet wast the running
joke, among the Ian crowd...
university?
no nickname...
shitty time...
while industrial roofing took off,
working for my father?
Picasso...
i was meticulous with the tar...
but lately...
my grandmother has
a nickname for me...
because of my beard...
these days i'm know as
Castro...
i'm not proud of nicknames...
but i didn't make them up!
i wish i had...
that being said...
nicknames are
quiet endearing...
i'd love to see Danielle once more...
see how much the freckles took
over her complexion;
Danielle... fuck me...
what an erotic name...
like m first love in
the English tongue...
the moment i heard it...
Sam-anth-a(h)...
curly hair,
darkened blonde,
mingling an autumnal-cherry
mahogany with chocolate
cinnamon...
fuck!
i've been so erotically
mobilized / motivated...
from such an early age...
Danielle & Samantha...
nicknames...
and the rest is, history.