I thought you would have made the most grandiose of lesbians, as women go, you were quite sublime. You caught me with your androgyny of hair and your boyish shoes. Too safe to listen to country music, your exquisite headphones blasted out some beligirent cross-hatch nonsense. So i tailed you, so i went to where your footsteps had inwittingly left their mark. I followed you into bars with organic juices, and book shops for the intelligentsia. I watched you across a crowded room, in smokeless bars, whilst you laughed gently at friends jokes; and how i wished i was the punchline, what i would give for that mouth to smile at me. Mirror-red, i would take off your head if you would let me.....
How i wished you were dead, so i could mourn you in a proper fashion. Looking glass. Paper hearts. Ancient things i had forgotten when i looked at you - so exquisite, so shiny, so super and new. How everyone envied me. I had been so good uptil now - the modern bride, wedded to my mind. Singleton screams soprano from my face, orange peeled lips. Unzip me, my handbag head spills on the pavement. Confused by you, confounded by you. Oh you majestic awe-inspiring lesbian, you seem to tick all those (non-conformist) boxes. I, a brilliant lazy yorkshire matinee; you, a grandiouse west end friday night opening. I read the script, somewhat deja-viewed. Are you shocked i worked thee out?
A date with your phone. oh, how, very..... original. Though i cannot but tear my eyes away from what you are doing....a penny in a handful of silver. Drop from my fingers, remove your eyes from my sight. REmove, my sweet experienced delight. Watch as i drive away..the weight of my absence must crush you surely.....? Do alarm bells ring?...No wait..does the heaven sing and mourn your loss? what a pity, a-fly-by-the-night-at-any-cost-i-don't-care-because-i'm-tooooooooo-cool-for-you, sorta pity? I am not your shadow, your stripes were blacked out by the light, i didn't care to see anymore, and i knew you would not follow so i chose my leave to go. (just so you know, this is me...leaving, you)
Too many lips for me to count, you talk tooo much. You sit there and all i can think of is lying you down and making you stop, talking. Too much? My oh My. Let me take you from here, make you forget who you are. Walk down a beach, hold hands, even if its raining. Too much to ask? Oh so many task. So many standards and obligations, too many notes and standard citations. I just want to do, anything, but listen to you talk. Again and again, i wonder when you will stop to look at me. I guess you would always be the girl, who was afraid to know, the truth. For the lack of you, do something. Four seems better than three, don't you think?
