prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2002-05-30 - 2:44 p.m.
Sitting here, smelling the floral sachet from my drawer, it reminds me of that long lost, once upon a time, deliciously stolen moment of ours, and of lavender dipped in oil , warmed between your hands, spreading across the alabaster landscape, of my back, beaded with slick little rivulets, of scented oil, that stains the egyptian cotton sheets, and noone minds, because it is a quarter past who cares, and we have nowhere else to be, and nothing else matters, ( except you and I )
and the ice cream sits melting by the side of the bed, and the maraschino cherry stems all giftwrapped and tied neatly, in little rows of disarray and oh how I love to graffiti your torso, marking my territory, in my lavishly scripted, scrolly ways. You always complain and try to wrestle away, but you are my poetry, my canvas, my little paper moon boy. You watch me through amused, smoldering eyes, as I airbrush your skin with a thin painted marker, penning a haiku of silliness, and then signing my name, the flowery way of the ~w~, the extravagant elongatation of the ~e~, the sensual roundness of the ~n~ that ties to the ~d~, that laces to the endless ~y~ that spirals around your heart, beating beneath the surface, of the night, of that long lost day, that we spent in bed, playing ice cream sundaes and tattoo's.
old starlight - new starbright
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