My face soaks up the moistness from the stone bricks. How long have I been here for? The sun has pressed my shadow into the wall. Not another morning. Shit. Where will I go now? The cops have seen me here before.
I try to pull my hand from the ground, my wrist still limp from my fall last night.
Creeeeakkk. Skkweeeekk.
I look through the grapevines on the chaink link fence. A woman so beautiful -- so at peace, pulling in her laundry.
Fuck. I wish I had such a life. So simple. Doing simple chores. And being happy doing it.
"Aveeee Maria! Aveee Maria!"
The sun beams again, floating her milk chocolate locks with a golden touch of caramel.
If I could only speak with her. She seems to have all the answers. The only woman who isn't afraid of me.
Maybe she can give me some food and warm me up.
I need someone to cry to. I need someone who will make this misery all go away.
I love the opposition of the romantic images and longer sentences (look through the grapevines... a woman so beautiful -- so at peace, pulling in her laundry..... the sun beams...... floating milk chocolate locks.... golden touch of caramel) against the coarseness of the swear words and shorter sentences ($#@&*). The romantic long sentences and sights within them seem to leave the I-character breathless. The longing of 'the have not' when viewing 'the have' is palpable and clear. The I-character asks for so little and still it feels out of her reach.
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