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The Ambiguous Octopusher

静かに彼女は何かを探していた…perfect fingers finding their place, tracing the curves of fine bone china. Utensils like clock hands, each delicately positioned to convey meaning. Dictate instructions. Bib tied carefully, shoelace knotted, to prevent any stains upon her creme-coloured chemise. Everything linen except for the tablecloth, which she has found the edges of. Each of her motions practiced to perfection, repetitive until automatic, so second-nature all movements now can be performed at once – choreographed the unseen.

I wanted to tell her I thought she had the most beautiful eyes, but she never saw me.

There is someone who I long to hear from, a warm whisper in the dark on days with this much rain. Tokyo trash, baby. Asleep on the trains. Half-smoked cigarettes to smoke later on again.

…and now the fast begins.

Posted by Invisibleye in: Experiences   Comments Off   31 March, 2010   Tags: Tokyo

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