Cabelo de milho
His left patella accidentally rests on my right fibula. His hair tickles my skin. I stop breathing. I sit still. He shifts to break contact. Then shifts again and the same bone settles gently on me. A second stretches. The cursor moves erratically on the screen. Mike the one-legged South African diabetic stares at his bowl of fruits, oblivious.
Rupture.
I explain the use of the pen tool to him. He stares unblinking at me. His eyes are pears I want to devour. I allow myself to touch the silky corn hair covering the lines on his face. A requiem only I can hear.
Rupture.
I explain the use of the pen tool to him. He stares unblinking at me. His eyes are pears I want to devour. I allow myself to touch the silky corn hair covering the lines on his face. A requiem only I can hear.