friday's song
playing in the sunshine
and trickery with Loki
a red herring–killed with my own knife–
makes for a nice dinner
amidst the curling, fragrant honeysuckle
His Futile War He and she The space between Push Pull Plunder Pillage Penetrate– Her earth Her womb Her mystery. She will not be contained. She engulfs– like the ocean or quicksand. She envelopes– like a carpet of sky or hot lava. She is volcanic mystery overflowing. He tries to contain the uncontainable.
The randomly-chosen word of the day is open and comes from Slut Lullabies by Gina Frangello. I was working as an intern for Emergency Press at the time the book was published so I have a copy of it which still sits unread on my shelf. That will be remedied in the coming months of rain ahead. The…
Let my life not be measured by gold or productivity or towers built for someone to later knock down Instead, let it be measured by the number of kisses on my neck, my forehead, my lips (and elsewhere). Let my life be measured by the number of times I have heard or spoken the words…
I got my hair cut. Short. This was hair 1.0. It’s even shorter and blonder now. Things are shifting rapidly. This has set off a chain of events in my life. New attitude. New sense of myself. New focus on being in my own skin. Less hiding my face, my feelings, my…self. More strength (odd,…