- 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.
Category: Uncategorized
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.
Elle rougit, détourne le regard, ses épaules s’affaissent.
noun blush plural noun blushes
- a reddening of the face as a sign of embarrassment or shame.
- another term for blusher (sense 1).
- a pink or pale red tinge.
- a wine with a slight pink tint made in the manner of white wine but from red grape varieties.
It was blush at first sight. Me, my products— him, his marvels. Spent evenings under the pale night sky; all was crisp, bittersweet, & hopelessly intangible. I never saw days like those. I never spent nights like that. Underneath the crystal-clear skies, we melted into ambiguous forms. We found ourselves feeling things we didn’t think we could again. Immersed somehow so very distant, he sings to me.
I didn’t want to turn this into a place for my writing but where else is a girl to go?
