414:24) King B
Date: 24-AUG-93   1:24
 The evening is gone before we stand turning away the beggars holding our
 helmets poised while I swing the key around on its ring. In a sentence I
 hear a whole month, and then I know her summer, how much I missed her. This
 isn't a moment of confusion or confession, deserved or needed, as she
 explains the situations to herself I wonder how silly it would be for us to
 hug, the compassion involves only eyes. I'm watching her speak, that's how
 I know her feelings, her lips form the words while she tries to avoid the
 obvious.

 The pipes scrape and I wander between the brakes knowing that I shouldn't
 go this fast when she's wearing a skirt. The days, minds of terminal
 indecision, unravel since the moment in green velvet. I know too much.
- - - - -
.