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January 14, 2017

Sometimes it is all too much and that is why I’m the
late developer.
Sometimes too much was my only pastime.
Sometimes embraces are not enough, neither is hard
fast or slow kiss sex.
Sometimes: is a word between here and the horizon.
Sometimes I feel so lonely and wish I was part of
something more than my own company.


I smile at everyone who comes through the door,
Just in case you’ve affected a cunning disguise.
When the doubt becomes unbearable,
I talk to myself for reassurance.
If observed I pretend I’m singing…badly.
In my pocket I discreetly adjust my testicles and slide a
finger between the folds of a crisp linen handkerchief.
For my own self fulfilling intimacy.

A girl with a vicious streak once told me she loved me.

I wondered how it was for her and what she considered
in those quiet moments between dead certainties.
The possibilities were enormous.
Like a chemist wearing unassuming grey shoes as he
passes you a potentially fatal prescription.
I had a choice.

Sometimes I think I understand complex situations –
but then realise it is only a thought.
Sometimes I have no wish to feel the sand between my
toes yet want the beach scene in Here to Eternity to
wash over me.
Sometimes I feel more than a passing empathy with the
main characters in Potter’s Karaoke.
Sometimes it is all too much and that is why I’m the
late developer.

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