May
24 June 2008
Falling into exhausted sleep she dreamt of sailors with sad eyes, singing low shanty songs to disinterested mermaids, and sometimes of him. Waking furious, alone, berating her subconscious for letting
The man with the the dancing eyes was a painter (a long-limbed, rather brilliant one). He had a tattoo of a mermaid snaking seductivley up his arm and sang Bob Dylan tunelessly but with soul... Someti
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