Robins wrench worms from the softening earth, trilling songbirds pour their song into the wide sky, Narcissus flirt with vibrant skirts and a thousand shades of green dance in ardent winds. Oh Spring! Penetrate me with your turgid madness! I surrender.
In improv class, we don’t get to use the words “don’t” or “no” and rarely get to ask questions when we are playing games. This is because it stops the story from moving forward. This has, of course, got me thinking about how I stop my own story. I see how many times I’ve let…
I can’t stop smiling since and then there’s the and the way you time and space are meaningless here. it’s rather lovely there are no weapons it’s like cherry popsicles and puppy kisses it’s like a warm rain and singing around a campfire. it’s like top-shelf tequila and my toes buried in warm sand. it’s…
Today: periwinkle flowers painted with rain drops dance-walking for a mile with my bright pink umbrella signs of spring bursting from the cold earth deep holding and sweet play with my girl on the bus sweet compliments and loving support from dear friends Persian trance music seeing and writing with new eyes dancing and more…
I do. I do bruise easily. I often like bruises in strategic places on my body but on my heart, not so much. The words that both scare the fuck out of me and that I most want to hear (with the right person) are: “When can I see you again?” I feel so vulnerable…
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