




här.Reality shakes my hand like one of those people who always look at their feet.
I don't feel too good, can you hold my hair.
I'm always in love with a back.
The front just never meets expectations. you know.
I think about the face you'd make.
If you'd laugh. What you'd say. If you'd give me a hug.
When I walk down town. When I see myself in the train window.
When I act the way I do. When I twist my feet a little.
How you'd notice.
I think about that.
But then I realise I never met the person I keep imagining.