Girl At The Edge Of The World

Girl At The Edge Of The World

Watercolours, only 20cm or so. just finished it…
here’s a song i wrote…

I think maybe I took too much
Of that pretty, pretty powdery stuff
We knock over the washing up
Now we’re barefoot on broken cups…
She pulls at my clothes and I take her pulse.
And my kitchen is covered in dust…

She makes me tea
She makes me tea
She
... She makes me tea.
But we – never touch…
We never touch.

She lay with me on the living, dying grass
Nothing endless, nothing vast
Frightened so scared
And pressed against the glass…

She gets ice cream
On her purple dress
And then…just when…
I’m watching her get dressed
She says that patience
Is the saddest kind of shyness.

It’s all that we have given
It is the shape

Of our ruin

But this isn’t a fever or a dream…
She’s wiping her hands onto her jeans
I ask her to stay, I BEG her to STAY
And that’s when she really starts to laugh

Blown out like a light bulb a candle a mind…
We are…
So thin;
Our skin…
Is paper-light.
And she smiles…

We fuck in a kind of trance
She calls it
Our

Bone… Dance

She makes me tea
She makes me tea
She makes me tea
But we never touch

We… never touch

Girl At The Edge Of The World belongs to the following groups:

1 on 1: The Fine Art of Portraiture, All Things Poetic, Prose, Philosophical., Live, Love, Dream, Lyrical Visions, Practising the Dark Arts, Safe Haven, Spiritual Art, The Sensual Word, WA Red Bubbles, Watercolour Paintings and Writers' Market