Member-only story
Who do you belong to?
Late evening, it’s a holiday, anyway.. who’s counting?
Between religious songs and snacks of walking the desert, there.. she was standing.
Who the f##k are you?
Smoking, observing with interest yet playing the artist way; hard to get, hard to impress these days.
The 12th of this month, a quarter to 21:00, an unbelievable time to be alive.
I know she likes dates and poems, better be mentioning some hours sealed with lips smoking a long neck cigarette whose ladies attract danger. Take cover.
Sorry, I fell again for the wrong words, maybe a bit for you, you’re differently fine, a fine look and taste in the air, I kissed the chance, talking to myself what would take place when I am out of the toilets.
A page or two, something to write home about.
Let’s see if you are a worthy content to stumble upon, and perhaps live the thrill of curiousiy, almost illegal, what we’re here for.
To dress up the cuties and perhaps undress the opportunities.
It’s getting boring, programmed behaviors.
Same people, same attitude, repeated traditions.
So who the f##k are you, I am asking while embarrassingly waiting for the automatic door to close behind me.
Who do you belong to?
