2012-07-29T13:10:48-07:00July 29th, 2012|Musings on life|

If I had dinner with Tintin

I wouldn’t ask him about his adventures
the tombs
the sharks
the clever way he rides
on the tops of trains

I wouldn’t ask him if he’s ever been in love
if he reads novels in the bath
if he believes in psychics
or God

I would lean into those black eyes
like holes punched out of the night
and see for myself
how so few strokes of a pen
can evoke
so much.

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