it has taken me... exactly... 3 hours and 24 minutes
to wake up proper...
oh... i was awake from half past 10 this morning
only having gone to bed at 7am...
maybe i'm getting the numbers wrong:
i'm writing this at 6 minutes 2pm:
                                      that's two in the afternoon...
mmmmm...
i think i could write about time, like this,
         over and over again...
this mediocre language that: nonetheless allows me
the theatre of the mind encompassing
the entirety of last night: this morning...
                       something in between...
she did tell me her name...
she didn't speak much english...
i asked: vide cor meum?
                      she taught me the Romanian words
for mirror, eye, ear, bottom-lip, upper-lip,
neck, hand... ring...

hmm... oglindă...
           i even tried to teach her some of mine:
oglądam... i'm watching
ochi: oko... oczy...

                     i think i'm still dreaming...
we shared stories about our tattoos...
she had the name Nicolas somewhere on her arm...
and something major on the entire upper-to-fore-arm...
she wouldn't stop caressing my mark of
Cain on my right shoulder-blade:
that almost complete numb part of me...

she ****** me off for about 5 minutes
while i started to admire her legs and feet...
but... 3 years without any intimacy...
i wasn't going to turn into a Duracell bunny....
i wasn't going to pop a blue V-pill either...
all this *******...
                       yeah... you wonder: but not really...
come to think of it...
most of the performers make it into a 30 minute slot
machine of genocidal ***** leftovers...
self-genocidal: some atheist purpose for genes: continues...
so i was at the brothel and sure
as **** i wasn't there to make a ***** flick to later
stream... i wasn't with some cam-girl either...
i guess it must get tiresome to...
play around with guillotined silicon ******, no?

just asking because... if the affair of some shrimp **** limp
"burdened" me: i had to unburden myself
in some other way... those £120 weren't coming back
and that hour wasn't going to just be spent
on talking: she didn't understand 7 8ths of what
i was saying: ****... i can still taste her...

we smoked a cigarette together...
at first she implored me for some blow...
imitating that ghastly snorkel and gargle
or whatever you want to call it
for the magic dust...
                            punch up her horniness?
i was, then i wasn't...
i almost knew this would happen...

what was left? pretending to be blind...
working around all the details of her body...
obviously stealing a kiss...
come to think of it... several kisses...
asking her timidly if she's into the French school
of snails... slobbering over oysters...
fit a ******* piñata in between the pair of
you while you're at it...
no... she wasn't... tip of the tongue to the lips
was enough: when you don't get a reply
to reciprocate using the tongues...

obviously i cycled to the "house of the rising sun"
so i implored to take a shower first...
which i did... a shattering bliss of cold water...
when you're gasping for air or rather...
to the memory of tadpole me...
or me... via foetal route... no...
    like a fish gasping for water...
this cold shower...

                          i guess both of us didn't know
where the hour went...
one last attempt at some ******* frivolity...
no... again: i was in the mood but then wasn't...
it's not like i can just turn on
a switch...

and then... four of them...
sitting in the antechamber
                          with the t.v. on and some pretzels
and me asking for 3 cups of water...
one Turkish... two Romanian...
the third i didn't catch a drift of...
a conversation about names...
   where i was from...
- Lachistan?
- well... you're turkish... Ottoman... we shared
a long history... Lach...
- where?
- Poland...
- oh, good people from there...
- i wouldn't know...

                                   it's not that i hate my fellow
countrymen... but i'm strapped
to about 5 miles shy of little Bangladesh...
i don't suppose you know that...
we're not good at congregating on foreign
soil... unless there's a football match...
like that time in Cardiff....

whatever it was... am i bragging am i gloating?
about what... the size of my *****...
come to think of it... i might as well have been
juggling three raw eggs
when touching her body...
   always with the outside of hand...
the more tender skin of the pair...
                                   - it's not the first time
i allowed myself to steal a kiss from a *******...
i never understood that taboo
they have in cinematic flicks about:
oh the sacred mouth of Jezebel...
that she'll sooner blow than kiss...

anyway... spectacular... spectacular...
after a 3 year drought of absolutely no intimacy...
to this day...
   my favourite movie characters has to be...
Lester Burnham...
                 now i feel like...
cycling to the east end of London and spotting
some cousin-******* beauties...
           or just being an absolute tease of sweat
and pulsating arteries...
if there won't be one chance of eye-******* through
a niqab... there's bound to be one
with a secular-rag-a-muffin' and a hijab...
so... win win... either way.

p.s. did i mention sniffing her raven hair...
that's another thing... ah... those Romanian girls.
i promised the Turkish one
that she could have me...
although she implored: stay one more hour...
one more...
with the one i was with just minutes prior
i told her: you can't have more than one woman
per night...
obviously thinking of king Solomon's harem...
kiss on the hand...
kiss on the hand and the cheek...
kiss on the forehead...
adieu!

lover-boy o lover-boy...
too bad those English girls only give it to Pakistanis.