everywhere and nowhere

I bit the apple. Or peach. Or mango.

Let's say mango as it's messy and hard to know where the sweet parts begin and end.

I slid right down the slippery slope into enchantment.

The fibre optic christmas tree must be an illusion because the sun isn't setting until 9pm.

Palm trees and soft vowels complete the effect.

The steamy mountains aren't smoky, they are boiling. I know I'm not in Tennessee because I couldn't order flapjacks if I wanted to.

I am a foreigner finally. A lucky one. Lucky in that I'm invisible. No one has batted an adorable kiwi lash at my accent. They say "you don't have an accent"

Is that how you know you are the citizen of an empire? When you go the the island underbelly of the world and people who sound nothing like you tell you that you have no accent?

I wrote a song on the way to the east cape, before I cried when I saw a woman galloping on a horse by the sea and after I'd eaten a kiwi pie (famous for it's nastiness).

It's a song about jesus of course. And it combines the nastiness and the longing for a muscled creature to mount all together in a sweet little ditty.

And there are monkeys.

I'd sing it for you, but you are in another time and place.

Pray hard that I'll remember it and when I see you and I'll delight your panties right off.

It's what songs about jesus tend to do.

Love love love

and wet wet wet

kisses

in all the right places ;)