Des feuilles d’arbres étaient trempées sous la pluie.

noun [prey-vuh-nahns] French.
special care in anticipating or catering to the needs and pleasures of others.

Other interesting things:

  • sans serif caps
  • If you have a pool, you can tell it’s raining outside by the ripples in the water of the raindrop splashes. A beautiful & whimsical sight
  • Resting eyes
  • Wet leaves
  • Terry bathrobe towels are the best & don’t leave little strings on the body
  • Men don’t use conditioner, unless they have long hair, but they still probably don’t
  • Fabric softener that smells amazing on sheets & blankets makes going to bed that much more special & lovely
  • Cigarettes taste like tar
  • I’m quitting smoking
  • Maybe

My lists don’t have the availability of. background colors 🙁

It’s nice to be back, after 9 days

When you know it’s over.

  • When the scaffolding chips away,
  • When the songs no longer fit the circumstances,
  • When the texts take too long to return,
  • When the morning surf is the main highlight— the solitariness of it
  • When the berries seem crisp but smash inbetween fingertips
  • When everything fades to black
  • No origin
  • No savings left.

As a means of self discovery

It’s been a little bit since I’ve written, sort of a mini-hiatus. It scares me to put my words on the internet, but other times it’s liberating. Isn’t that strange, the sensationalism of it? Sometimes I don’t know what I’m talking about. Other times I want to provide instructions, advice, reviews, all that sort of thing for complete strangers (hopeful friends) on the internet. This is a post just to say hi. I had some poetry in my head and I think it belongs there for now. I’ll go back to writing regularly; it’s for the health.

Et puis, la conversation a été déviée par quelque chose.

The words left unspoken; the cherries atop the trees. They start bearing fruit in their fourth year. Your voicemails are magnificent, I wish I had more of them. To collect, to enjoy, to savor on grey, solid cold days. Inferences that don’t make sense. Tense phone calls, ending abruptly, then you call back again and apologize but you’ve already been forgiven. Because that’s just how this works, that’s just how this works. Don’t you know it?

Je sens son absence.

A mild test for the two of us. Minor sting, can’t wait to hear your variation. Happy smiles, chin up, fleeting ego. Lots of stopping, then starting again, but not as if driven by a motor. A repetitive scheme it is not. Far from. Far, far from. I miss you smiling at me. In the garden, in the parking lot. In the car, briefly to yourself, because I made you laugh so you hang your head and chuckle and I find myself going completely fucking insane as a result of that.