Desperate and armed only with a sandwich board advertising: AUTHENTIC SELF EXPRESSION. I roam the streets in the hope you’d see and it will strengthen my enthusiasm and hopefully restore the circulation in your arm, for I have been squeezing you too tightly. My only instructions will be to scrape it straight off my tongue and serve it immediately.
It is all in the mind and I could run away with the future and even though it hasn’t happened the arches of my feet grow higher, I am lifted.
I acquire some extra hands; no doubt these will only encourage my compulsion to gorge. Let’s hope they are put to good use. Twenty fingers now to swear with, to cross my heart.
All these changes, I can’t see yet. But it makes me forget the pace of my breath and the blister between my toes.
Tonight, I will lie down next to you at a party and watch the clouds, brainstorming the identity behind their shapes. I’ll be the first to say what has been on my tongue since this morning, “That one looks like us”.
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