we’re hollow like the bottles that we drain
“And we go on travels. Great worlds to our minds, like interrail from here to there. Slum it downtown Bucharest eat cheese in Paris fall in love. Take boats in Venice to Constantinople by the train. Where speak good Russian Portugese. Know people. We don’t know the world but want and want and on the very tip of tongue I’d fly away if I could. With her. It is our love affair. How we’d be. Who we think we are beneath royal blue jerseys and pleated skirts. Icon in the making me someone new tell every single one at school to go to fucking hell. And sometimes we sit by the lake. An early morning or some after school – in the daytime monitors drive there to catch whoever’s on the hop. Read Milton and feel moved discuss the heavens and the earth and film stars we’d do with a chance. It’s love. It. Is. Love. Or love waiting for a man to come and take her place. But how would someone fit, I don’t know, in between the two”(A Girl is A Half-formed Thing 63-4).