rain

seriously
I have to peel off my pants.
no more puddles.

oh, how it squishes
the sound makes me laugh out loud!
WHERE ARE THE TWINKIES??!!

For real. pants are wet
there was loud puddle stomping.
I regret nothing.

Curled up and stretched out.
Mountains move in a soft breath.
Piercing eyes and smirks.

late night musing

Here are the cross roads
it's not surprising, really -
my hour, your month.



I'm reminded of
boys and their guitars - gone by.
Black and white photos.



------------------------

A run in with past
A tango with forgotten
A waltz with before

A knowing of now
A salsa in a passion
A wanting of more

A willing of calm
A want of complete balance
A dance of two.

To forget the moon.
To ignore the night sky light.
To be that easy.

A little ice and cold

Snow bound and stupid
I'm not prey to your follies,
I just wish I was...

Maybe that is a lie
pride is such a funny thing.
I do like the play.

sometimes I am at odds.

I want to run trains
into the ground till they stop
or just plant daises.

October is the new summer

Stomping in puddles
in school girl skirts and knee hi's.
I try not to laugh.

wet cheek against cold
fingers. the heater takes a long
raggedy breath.

its cold in here

my heart beats against
my rib cage against the hard floor
that is your ceiling