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Tuesday 17th April 2012.

The last Samurai cannot wear panties,which is perhaps why an abode in Sandiway is a simple figment of my imagination,the contrast between a warrior and a transvestite is far thicker than the panties which cover my skin and perhaps tonight would take far longer to fathom why i have suddenly drawn this fabrication in shades of glory, through the swishing blade visions which came to me as i tramped the streets in Sandiway last Friday day time.
The cutting edge in ego, in footsteps taken on that strange day, is perhaps the blind spot which joins the Samurai..the Slut...amongst the giant red bricked dwellings,the shadows falling on the walls as each corner turned,brought blight in blindness from the glare, that silk joins the two together,the butterfly in clothes is the thread which demands more thought,on the warrior and slut..for is not a slut a warrior of sorts cast though in Society's naughty corner...

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bichoose
bichoose

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