053009 8:46AM

And while he walked
he heard
a peculiar noise
it fell on his nose

a noise like
someone
brushing teeth

it echoed off the walls
it echoed from his mouth
he began to look around

around
shika-shika
shika-shika
the brushing

a dull but brilliant
a familiar tone of
nothing in particular

he looked up
and there she was
a girl
in the window

still awake
from the night before
out her window
she leaned

and down it came
shika-shika
shika-shika
the brushing

and all the while
an old man
from the door of his shop
watering the street

shika-shika
shika-shika
he wondered
her blonde hair
blonde eyes

who was she?
That girl
was me.
I brushed
in the morning

I brushed a
shika-shika
shika-shika
breaking morning
breaking stones

I brushed a
web of lovers
court of
amalgamated
associated
hands in hands
and constant mated

lovers of lovers
lovers of sons
lovers of broken
and lovers begun

I didn’t know
quite what to say
except:
shika-shika
shika-shika
shik-

he looked and I
looked away
in the morning sun
in the sun because

I was never
the girl on the beach
I was blue eyes
and broken teeth

shika-shika
skika-shika
shik-

I was never
the feminine
but now
now I am
the optimum

shika-shika
shika-shika
shik-

What is one to do
with a morning
full of morning
with a morning
like this?