they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
you could have dialed apt34 with it. + 2003-12-01 = 11:34 p.m.
+ It�s his orange couch; the wall of windows overlooking the Hudson. It�s the water running in the bathroom, and she can tell, he is shaving. It�s her phone number that he�s pinned to the wall in his bedroom. The green light in the foyer, the sound of traffic rushing beneath his open windows, the shapes in the harbor, the sidewalks that end in lights telling one to go, to stand still; it�s all telling her something. She balances on the windowsill , watching the city move below.
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notes, file of pom-pom
ghosts!
