Her shirt looks like old skin molting. I swear her shoulder blades must rasp underneath. They stretch and pivot every time she moves, searching to be free. The clothing clings to her in places and slides loose with the violence of tearing.
But then, all shirts do that, so I must be watching her shoulder blades for a reason. Quick, make one up and nobody will know that you love her.
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Not true, by the way. But I seem to do this with things I love. QUICK MAKE SOMETHING UP AND NOBODY WILL KNOW
ReplyDeleteWhy is that, I wonder.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, this reminded me rather oddly of Sherlock's shirts. They never fit properly.
I think many people do this with things they love.
ReplyDeleteI don't think I've met anyone who doesn't except, you know, the ones everyone makes fun of and never takes seriously.
ReplyDeleteIt's just so darn dangerous to talk about the things you love. What if people make fun of you? WHAT IF THEY TAKE THE THING YOU LOVE OH NOES
ReplyDeleteThis is true. I have lost things I loved like that.
ReplyDeleteI find that I care less and less as time goes on whether or not people make fun of me (progress?). The taking, though . . . Well, people do that all the time. Generally, what I love most isn't even mine, though, so I suppose that's their right.
But still, it's like they're . . . borrowing my love.
This is a nonsense comment, but I always post nonsense, so it's nothing unusual.
Hm. Do you fight for these things? Do you try to take them back?
ReplyDeleteNo, Robby. I don't. They don't belong to me.
ReplyDelete