. . . she slides the gun along the wall
guiding it with a breathless muttering about letters and jobs while he waits anger smoldering claiming his being into existence
she cornered beautiful eyes terrified collapses whispering of time the sensuous sigh of sex caresses & arouses & he panics nervously scratching the wall paper then she sneers a sleezy broken hearted diva drowning the cry of unrequited love and the whispering fear of childish horror
we are the blind the shaking struggle of the defenseless
helpless . . .
:: note :: . . . the university term moves towards an end . . . for the first time ever it is a spring of text work . . . an exercise of enormous challenge . . . frightening & so rewarding . . . a collective story . . .