bes' pee ever! + my fff#30
since i fell in love with my flat on sight, i offer salcedo (of my favourite local band the big bad gyazette)
wallspace to muralise and otherwise experiment artistically (chee, i doubt you read this, but sending vibes to remind you your space waiting...); salcedo sketch on a wall since the other day and me+family enjoying the wild women ever since. this week he call and bawl he feelin' to paint, i say come through, he reach 1time and gone clear: women gone, whole new piece, still changing after 2sessions, he know he nowhere near done...
the wall he sketched+painting is in my main corridor, opposite my bathroom, and since i live alone doors stay open. the morning after he sketch was the bes' pee ever 'cause i woke, stumbled in + sat, then as i started that glorious 1st pee, opened my eyes to art. this morning was the bes' pee ever!
and my flash fiction friday #30 (inclusion, kinna): snakecharmer, citrus, book(s).
she takes a pull too, resettles the hookah and is suddenly on her feet, lifted by smoke and abandon. she finds her body finding its way through music as her eyes find his again.
he knows his power now as she wines+winds around him in the corridor. his dancing fingers pull his marionette closer until the warmth of her left bumsee cheek brushing his strumming arm momentarily distracts him. his breathing stops as she turns to him, leaning down to throw her arms around him+guitar, giggling apologies for reckless backing-back.
her hair smells like oranges when he can finally inhale and he’s instantly distracted all over again until she releases him, whispering the song she wants to hear next in his ear as the scent recedes. his pounding chest is the rhythm he uses now, playing what she wants but not the way she expected. her hips respond instinctively.
she turns to him again, face serious this time as she says, “let me be your scribe…let me write this story. i want to bring you and your work to the whole world…”