for SR
I wanted to lose my virginity. His motorcycle
would not start. He was a boy who lived
in the same village as I. He gave me a job
as his secretary. The elevator broke.
I can remember those numbers 3 and 5.
The fibowhatty sequence? The photos I found
in the grass verge were torn. I did a jigsaw.
It was Jerome and his wife. I started his motorcycle.
All of this is too made up to be true,
but it happened. What are you going to believe?
Years passed. That much can't be ignored.
He was a terrible fuck. Lies don't make it worse.
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Wednesday 8 October 2014
THERE ARE TOO MANY COINCIDENCES TO YOUR MEETING JEROME
Labels:
Bach,
cover version,
false plagiarism,
film,
film analysis,
film review,
love,
movie,
Nymphomaniac,
poem,
poetry,
Saoirse Ryan,
sex
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