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About Bruges

I spot her—red dress, killer heels, hair fallin’ like a damn curtain. She’s givin’ me that *“time flows slowly”* stare—another movie zinger. I’m like, hell yeah, this is it! Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.” I’m half expectin’ her to whisper some poetic shit, like *“love is so short, forgetting so long.”* Nope. She goes, “Cash upfront, big guy.” Laughed my ass off—mood ruined, but damn, she’s real. I’m pissed she broke the fantasy, but also kinda stoked—gritty’s my jam.

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I roam around Westchester Park—lo, those trees, that river the Slither running past. On a warm day, I’d sit by the water, thinkin’ about blood and fava beans. Y'know, "I ate his liver with fava beans!" kinda vibe. I got this mood sometimes.

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