twenty_dollar_bill fyn gula into the place where sleep was long and dreams were vivid, he stepped furtively amongst the clothes dropped piece by piece, to where she lay lke an angel afraid to be woken. he wondered, as she breathed in an out like some song of peace, a rhythm of flapping wings, of a child playing a broken drum, whose interest waned. if he should stir this glassy surface of one unloved, for yesterday was already a life ago, and last night could have been part of her drunken dream. now that he sat in the grime of a cold vinyl bus seat, cigarette smoke in the air like choking ribbons, he breathed his own song, a prayer, inhaling the accusations of ghosts, guilt heavy in his hands, staring down at his feet. he saw a twenty dollar bill that someone had lost. he stood up at his stop and left the money where it lay. 010216 ... guitar_freak www.wheresgeorge.com 010216 ... In_Bloom Peeking out from between the pages of a book I know where you've been and who's caresses have been on you The shimmer on you tells a story too different than the shimmer on me If you could, I'm sure you'd gloat about besting me 090910 what's it to you? who go blather from