Loose braids, messy ties. Her hair flows over sheets, she rises slowly and stretches. We crawl into the plum tree and through the mountains, searching for antlers, guided by snow and tracks and moss and neon orange mushrooms . She's covered in furs. I watch smoke pour out of a trash barrel, we shoot at paper men. The wolves are my goodbye, skeleton tights. His head is on my lap, two cats as we pet, pale and paler. Close the curtains, he traces my spine and then he's back on that plane. I say, "I'll wait until you come and get me" and I just might mean it. I wish they were mine but for now here are useless words for the ones I love.
I'll take them all.
I've been reading alot of little tidbits of different kinds of writing recently.
I'm craving a box of junior mints. The next four weekends are intensely planned. A vacation is in the works for me, Kathleen, and Kimmy, before we all move away. We've lived together for so many years and I think it krept up on us that we won't be this way anymore, ever again. Over the summer, if I don't find a summer job in Philadelphia I've designed a new writing project. I've wanted to do a whole collection of poems with a theme since I read Kenneth Kochs' book about addresses, that's not the home address, but like speaking to something sort of address. It'll be cool, I really like my idea and have thought of about 5 different poem ideas already pertaining to this theme. It's just something to do to not let my brain get rusty before I start graduate school (if I get in). Also, I'll be in an unfamiliar place so doing that and feeling productive when I won't have school, and probably won't be working, is crucial for my sanity.
This weekend John is coming to NYC, he has a trip for work to some art festival and I'm gonna wear something pretty when we use the V.I.P. passes he has for some openings on Thursday night. He always looks so polished and sometimes when I do things like this by his side I like to look just as put together, its fun to get fancy.
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