With love from one, there is no need for other poison. New love is scary and you need to lay light steps and plant lush green thoughts. My mind is rather foggy this morning, drifting from music to thought and back and forth like some divinely comforting metronome. My neck is sore and my face is plugged up. My shoes are dirty, but less so than recently. Seems to me the days get shorter and the spaces between activities swell; water through a dam or blockage in a pipe. My fingers remember her skin. My lips remember her bite. Thighs are for thighs like eyes for eyes close up, penetrating souls and facades, leaving political creatures, your self, your preacher, your teacher and servantile ways behind. The sun doesn't shine through closed blinds.

<< | >>