Kiteman is sleeping, artgirl is sleeping, a denim radio
built by elves in the night. A night of continuous dreams
wakes to eyeballs rolled in sawdust. The kitchen is silent,
peaceful, table holds a bowl of steaming porridge up to
the sky. Sky of dirty milk comes down to the ground, damp,
chilled. Windows flecked in condensed mist. Driving to
see you, rendezvous 08:30. The road strokes the rubber late,
usually in the corner of a cafe, in the sanctuary of paper
& pen by now, but this morning I’m driving to see you.
Everything else is insignificant.
Listening to ‘Hibernation’ by SPASHGIRL