punch you in the face with my lips...

it's a soul type of day. jazz carrying over to the other aspects of the day.
(mother rounded out the day by shouting first and last thing)

celebrated last night. celebrated in my dreams while the sleep washed over me, dictated my consciousness for a long while. maybe i said something i didn't mean? maybe he meant something he didn't say... faces are set and glazed in chocolate sweetness.

(broken lines)

i remember his monochromatic-emotion grey, and something radiating from his eyes. of course, there was the desire for velvet kisses.

missing in action/action missing in action

skin smelling clean and delicious, i remember this foever, i also remember how we decided we were better than everyone else we'd ever encountered.

i think i've fallen out of love... sometimes, you do that and it surprises all parties involved. (how can he carry my mind away so? how is it that i can become so involved in this litle game? is there really any substance to it?)

move on, girl. please move on.

piano rhythm diversion assaulting the geography of passion. also, there is maddness. hips to love by, to hold and guide between fingers. tousseled hair, empirical miles. six thousand happinesses. secret happinesses, are they real? can we wrap our silences around them and project them from our hearts?

the rainbow of your september happinesses, is that all there is? perhaps. thinking again of the graduate. the sensations are again breezing along. the words we speak in scentless corridors wait to be launched forward. the witty poetic exchanges transforming hearts and souls remind me of the way you can make my esophagus a veritable playground.

i am becoming a domestic little thing.

we talked about "an ode to a grecian urn," and it's true, then. that frozen moment of agony is hell. pure torture, and again we are left holding the beats of our hearts in our throats.

eyelashes are still highly significant.

harmonies remind me of the taste of summer. our bare toes dipped into the crystalline blue of the water and only we knew what was happening. i loved you more than anything else at that particular moment. my love is unfaithful and it is fleesting to and fro. i have loved the grass and the feathers and the sound of high heels clacking, smacking along concrete. i have loved countless individuals and their intimate gestures, their frailty and exposure.

tiny explosions of love.

you make me happy. ginger revives the lovely sensation of our radiant kisses. (sometimes i wish i were kissing always) nights of love and laughter... there isn't anything else, is there?