Friday, July 30, 2010

Naughty indeed. But, indeed, we're back. Words:


I’ve been sleeping. I’ve been waking up.
A quiet afternoon sans the traditional stinging,
a foreplay I don’t mind at all.
When I breathe in and out, it’s almost
like the past on speed dial, making me ache.
It’s not like I forgot by falling asleep.
This letter, the red wine, the nonsense.
It’ll be good in Tejas.


we're back.

we've been naughty about letters and about poems. we're going to get back to them. in honor of that- words:

To you,

Tonight I’m sober so that ruins living in the uk. The leaves turn brown and it rains for two weeks. There was bad language, sex and coffee- which it needed, because everyone else ordered Chinese food while I was gone.

As per usual, I had to tell you exactly nothing. Just something. Conversations like in the 50s…I guess I’ll end this now.

Good luck making Paris.