Sunday, January 30, 2011


He does not kiss me fully, and his conscience touch stems out of distraction. He does not like to make magic love to magic music. To him, they were two different types of awesome, and you could only really pay attention one at a time, without disrespecting the sanctity and devotion of the other. The room had to be dark, for the most part. It made voices spit fiery balls of desire and hands plunge into a desperate search for treasure. And when you finally did allow light to stream in, you weren't surprised at the person holding your face, because you didn't know who you had just been with. When he slept, he rested his arm between my diverged  breasts. Like an arrow through a heart, it was bound to be a mess; and so it was.

Friday, January 28, 2011


'i'm naked, i'm numb, i'm stupid, i'm stayin'.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I have an open-toed, thinking heart. The arrow suggested I was going in the opposite direction. We were unpleasant and perfect, in a city that wasn't ours.

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


'so what do we do now?'
'...there's nothing to do..'

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

the girls

There was a passionate, melting, blending kiss. Then:

'There is nothing to forgive'
'There is everything to forgive'. 

Friday, January 07, 2011

Sunday, January 02, 2011


He told me (in my dream, of course) that he loved my words. He said that he often had to go over them, again and again, over a course of a few days. That he studied and analyzed them, that he had felt their presence in his life long before I showed up and messed up his routine. He told me he was afraid that he'd never be able to get on a plane and go around the world. He feared he would never be able to learn the international language of love. The one I spoke to him, and the one he could not speak back.

Saturday, January 01, 2011

in my next life.

hi banana.
hi banana.
how you doin', banana?
how you doin', banana?

i love you.
i love you too, banana.