Friday 14th February

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THE BLACK HAIRED BOY:
 
The Black Haired Boy, The Raven Black, whose hair 
in feather daggers cut you – if you – get too – close.
The Gypsy-eyed Boy with a hole in his ear. Big enough 
for a Black Ring you could see the Universe, pass the 
whole world through, is hanging, one hand, off the 
rail, rocking on the Train.
His Skinny legs vibrating in his skinny jeans.
Black leather loafers root him to the new spot. 
They know something he does not, pale white, 
impatient eyes that dance with every breath in haled
through pencil lips. That breath, once in, is craving 
to escape his angry body.
 
(K)

Thursday 13th February

Image

THE BLACK HAIRED BOY:
 
The Black Haired Boy, The Raven Black, whose hair 
in feather daggers cut you – if you – get too – close.
The Gypsy-eyed Boy with a hole in his ear. Big enough 
for a Black Ring you could see the Universe, pass the 
whole world through, is hanging, one hand, off the 
rail, rocking on the Train.
His Skinny legs vibrating in his skinny jeans.
Black leather loafers root him to the new spot. 
They know something he does not, pale white, 
impatient eyes that dance with every breath in haled
through pencil lips. That breath, once in, is craving 
to escape his angry body.
 
(K)

Friday 7th February

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WAITING FOR THE STARS:
 
Did you ever find a picture you shouldn’t have found? Said,
“Hey Mom, what’s this!? Do you know this face? What’s wrong with 
you?”
I caught you hanging with the wrong girls, standing in the shade, 
hiding from the flies. Talking loud between the cars, waiting for
the stars.
 
(K)