I like that the skies go nowhere. In the painting. I like that the birds want to get away but they can't. I like the reflection of paint in the dark.
Cath CrowleyDale Chihuly." She pulls out her phone and moves close to show me a picture of his work. "It's an eleven meter-long chandelier at the Victoria and Albert Museum."
It looks like one of those tanges she drew, only it's hanging from a ceiling. Blue and yellow. A sideways ocean.
"It looks to me like a feeling pulled straight out from under your skin," she says.
So how old are you, baby?" Gorilla asks her.
"Old enough to know better," she says, looking at his arms.
"You like what you see?" he asks and touches her leg. "You and me should do it, later."
"Did you forget to evolve?" she asks, struggling to get off the couch.
It takes a lot of wanting to get out of a place like this, though. It takes wanting so bad it's all you care about, all you dream about, all you breathe. Some days I think it takes more wanting that I've got.
Cath CrowleyIf my like for you was a footy crowd, you'd be deaf cos of the roar.
And if my like for you were a boxer, there'd be a dead guy lying on the floor.
And if my like for you were sugar, you'd lose your teeth before you were twenty.
And if my like for you was money, let's just say you'd be spending plenty.
Tags: love poem dylan daisy poetry-love
I'm like Courtney Love without the drugs, right? Edgy. Full of unspoken feeling.'
'You're a brick when the guy is real and in front of you.
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