29 OCTOBER    2008

you're on the underground. you're at embankment. a man is cracking his knuckles. a woman is reading Anna Karenina
a film of blushing: a portrait in which a face or faces becomes gradually suffused with blood
Levin

the person faces you: their face is initially clear, skin translucent, pale
little by little, imperceptibly at first, their skin becomes tinged, flushed the way an apple, suffused, finally flooded, awash with fresh bright blood
reliving a moment of acute exposure: they are freed: passionately embracing their transgression
conversion of a fault, spot, shame, into a naked declaration:
a broad smile spreads across them: their lips stretch and their face splits like a pomegranate, showing the white pith

the train's packed      you stop at Charing Cross