2008-10-20 - 3:18 p.m.
he always looks out of place, except when he's next to his wife
in the airport waiting for our flight to arrive, i kept sneaking glances up at you. you were reading alex la guma in carhartts and a flannel shirt, legs straight out in front and crossed at the ankles. i'm always impressed by the books i see in your hands - i know you're not reading them to impress me or anyone else.
because you're so laconic, your thoughtful gestures and dick moves are stunningly similar. at 6:15 on the dot, you looked at your watch, walked over and started pulling down my poster without a word. but i know you'd give me your jacket if i were cold, and i know we'll never have a real conversation about experiences and ideas.
to be friends, all we have to do is occupy space near each other.
* * *
listening to: pomegranates - the children's progress.
reading: the year of the french.
working on: making new friends.