paul...my bedfellow

the weekend has been non-existant and everything swirls around me without getting caught in my fishing net. I've heard from dead men, walked arm-in-arm with annie oakley, changed genders three different times and danced with strangers. Right now I am pouring hot water into an old tin bowl so I can get in and stay warm. not until november, i keep telling myself: not until november. I left early yesterday at everything and I hope that my lovelies understand that my wanderlust has little to do with anything apart from how heavy my body has become. working under silver jewelry and falling in love with people that cannot belong to me. smoking cigarettes that invade my brain putting burn marks on neurons and smoked nooses around my capillaries. I swagger cowboy style when you see me, but really, I've lost my legs.