Sylvia fed me spiders in the classiest corner of
town... Collars turned up to hide us, we cupped
up our hands and shovelled them down. Silver
blades and subtle passes, we slipped our pills
and swapped our glasses, played footsie on a
fading floor. We turned around, I shut the door.
you shot me with a killer glance - I swore! I
screamed! You shall not put me in the circus
with the fleas, or the Kathleen, the human
bean... I'm scared of heights, I tiptoed
tightropes... Angels spied through telescopes.
"gone fishing!" But I will not be your oyster,
God, I'm much to young to drink and much to
drunk to die... I'm happy in your tapestry, you
have me on a thread. You wove a pair of pink
pyjamas and aa double bed when I sleep, I
mutter "Mata Hari strike me dead! With hatpins
baby...... hit me where it hurts! I love it. I'll
be your little oyster..... I'll be the whole wide
world. |
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