her cold white skirt stretched tight against the white cold stretched skin of her knees
OH GOD !!! why is it so....COLD.....?
Floating......floating.......floating.........
I look down from the cold...... and below.....below....
A boy rides his bicycle....carrying a steel guitar on the handlebar basket.....
beside the cold black thorns of the kilometers high black....ebony.... slickicey.... thorncrown.... evillll....of.....
FIGHTING....Fighting.....fighting....
fighting...against the thorns.....the cold cruel thorns.....they prick me!
They strike at me!
THEY STAB AT ME!!!!
WHY.....WHY....is it sooooooooo cooooooollllldddddd....
I sit on the white cold gravel.....
My little car between my legs.... I push it with my cold, cold hand....on the rough.....cold....flinty...steely....gravel.....
The teacher is standing beside me......her black heeled square toed teachery shoes .....beside me....
The silver buckle on her shoes glint in my eye....
I can feel the heat of her legs...under the black skirt that slides against my cheek.........
the calf of her legs in cold white stock hose mocks me....
"Why don't you go and play with the other children...?"
The little girl squats across from me....pushing her car.....on the white cold gravel...
the cold, stretched skin of her knees point at me....
Her white skirt stretched wide against her knees mocks the the white cold that I feel as I sit on the cold white....gravel...
She looks down....
at her car....
and pushes it.....
I push at the black thorns of the black kilometer high forest that surrounds the school.......
I strive.....against the black thorns.....
I SMITE at the black thorns.....
The cold, black, white snow of the forest claws at me as I .....flay against the thorns that flay against me....
The faces of the imps in the forest leer at me as I flail against the thorns.....
From within the forest..... an animal..it's eyes yellow with hate.......leers at me .....as I sit on the cold.....cruel.....white....gravel....
The girl looks at me..... she...looks down....... her cold white skirt stretched tight against the white cold stretched skin of her knees....
and she pushes her little car.....
The heat of the teachers legs oppresses me.....
The silver buckle of her shoe glints in my eye....so cold....so cruel......
I push my car across the white....cold gravel....
with my white cold hand......
and lift my gaze.....
to the wet-black shiney-black black-kiln-bricked school building that rises through so MANY kilometers to the black cold sky..... the shiney black brick school....enclosed in the shiney black cold thorny forest.....surrounded by the white cold gravel....
and I look down.....down....
I gaze down.....at the boy who rides his bicycle....the boy who carries a steel guitar in the bike rack on the handles....
and I float in space.......
watching myself.....and wondering....
Why.....why....
***********************
end part one of Can a Kub hold you in her arms? Gazing in Wonderment at Her.