※SpinalGap24 ※

With a shot of pain, aching through another sickening migraine,
You have lain beneath the vision I had,
but learn I have to see you in a new light hitherto unknown-
you're animal, poacher, seducer, cursed
with 'you-are-me' eyes, drawn in black ink...
growling, loving, soothing voice seeking my mother tongue
as I sought refuge in yours
rain thundering hard above us
in garden-green coloured decaying shelter
you upon my knee - and escaping nowhere was our empathy
raindrops sneaking through cracked Victorian slate
onto your cheek, and where our lips did meet
my coat, my hood, your wet, long jet black hair...
our time, our embrace, our bodies entwined
your koi-patterned top, you allowed to drop
there it fell, along with the rain and our love.

Colour: Grey/blue
Music: Tricky: Maxinquaye (an absolute masterpiece)
Mylene Farmer: l'amour naissant

So, the 'special ones' cancelled each other out, 0-0, surprise, surprise. Who would bet against the same scoreline at Stamford Bridge in the return leg??
But the Premiership fixture, I am convinced, will bring at least one goal...because now, in the three Champions League games between the two clubs have produced all of one goal, and how important that one was...as they said on 5 Live last night, 'Liverpool now have the measure of Chelsea' ...yes, they do indeed, and nobody else in England can claim that!

Apparently, the local news announced that a report has found that dear ol' Norfolk is one of the most expensive places in Britain to buy a pint of beer. Why....why us?? No-one is questioning the report, but we're all shocked.
Home brew my friends, home brew...~~~
It went on to say that we in Norfolk are also the nation's worst drivers...like hell we are...

My dream last night was symbolic, yet abstract, whereby I had been invited to my mother's home region of France, though family were not involved in the dream at all.
A 'meeting' had been arranged with a literary lady, French, and of some great mystery and respect. We met, in a beautiful tin can development, the pride of modern France, but inside, for our coffee, we were amidst basketball courts, and low lighting. Anyway we chatted about life, literature, books, queues, and people, as the sporty types hurled basketballs around us.

Colour: Autumn gold
Music: Mylene Farmer: Innamoramento
Reading: Rupert Brooke