loveyou
weaving in and out of traffic, you weaving your fingers through my long silky hair, that's the time when it's all worth it the pain of having long hair, cuz i know you love it, love to touch it, love that it goes all the way down to my butt even though my mom thinks it's too long and getting straggly
I am the ambassador to a small country in Africa. I go there frequently, but it is a long long trip. I have never brought my family with me as it is somewhat dangerous.. But the place somehow feeds my soul. I bargain with the vendors for drums and beads, colorful beads that drip in long strands.
the skyline is my byline, i'm walking on a fine line, neon, bright, missing-you city, sand in my shoes, ocean beneath me, a little high on the memory, moving away from me, you are down there somewhere, somewhere in the skyline.
You're my companion now, here in this bed, even for 20 minutes, our hands wander freely, over my thigh, your belly, your eyes are closed, i love being your companion, i want this to last, i don't want you to leave.
But I will pretend like it's ok, yes i have to go too, this will have to do.
Heaven, the word is in so many songs, what new could I add to it. Are you there, do you see me now, in your house, with your coins, throwing out your clothes. And not walking on eggshells after years of that crap, tight stomach, hearing you complain about me loudly so that you knew I could here, accusing me of being such an awful person. I hope for your sake you are there. I am glad that we had peaceful, almost loving moments in the end. But I know you weren't happy. I hope you are now.
We're gonna rumble boys, got this energy gonna explode, like the thunder rolling in the distance, right above those factories belching smoke into the red sunset, august evening, summer too fast, fall already in the air.
Make edits to the last few days? I wouldn't really, would have been more disciplined in my writing, would have come through with more solid work, but I'm so grateful for this time, ok well I should have looked at my phone way less, ugh, but now I'm saving the edits for last like i'm doing now, just brain-dump.
Crafty lady, got your glue gun and your knitting bag, your crinkled scissors and felt scraps, bags and bags of whatnot, coupons to the craft store. I know you are proud of your cards, your stamping, just like I am proud of my songs. I wish I could appreciate it more, but I do appreciate it a little. So thank you for sharing your talents and gifts with me.
The atrium was bustling with teens and moms, couples and strollers, suddenly young millenials started congregating in a cluster of hipness in the center of the mall, soon they were bouncing up and down and clapping in unison, then bursting into song, a heavenly chorus of harmony, youth and life, heads held high, smiles and gentle gazes to the surrounding shoppers, some recording the whole scene on cell phones, children standing stunned, adults amused and awed.
how many railroad lanterns are there now in mom and dad's basement? come time to sell them we'll count them up and sell them as a batch. maybe someone with a train-themed restaurant will buy them. maybe one of those restaurant shows will pay big bucks to outfit their makeover restaurant with them. dad was so nostalgic about trains for a while, he collected stuff, we got him train-themed items, calendars, VHS tapes, for his Bday and father's day. but it's sad, he was a boarderline hoarder I'd say. it will be nice to get rid of them.
load more entries