wendchymes

she dreamed the same dream night after night~We are an orchestra of one, we are a majesty unveiling, we are newly born lovers, christening one another with mouths and hands and seeking tongues. We are everything and nothing~ Night is falling. night is falling. and I am drowning. in your arms. I am safe again. I am safe again. You surface me, and cling to me, night is falling and I am in my place again. above you, beneath you, wherever it pleases you so... oh my love, I am home again. My heart has been reborn again. the night is falling. and so am I . Falling for you ( into you, above you, through you). night is falling. night is falling. and so am i. so am i. always for you. for you.

~random vintage wendchymes~

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

2002-06-01 - 11:43 a.m.

When I am an old woman, I will sit in the breeze and let my white hair fan out all around me. I will wear a pink satin ball gown, and long stretchy silk gloves but my feet will be bare ( so that I can feel the evening rain on the wild grass) My toes will be painted a shimmering fuschia colour that glitters, to match my eyes lined with a thick purple liquid pen. My eye brows will never have grown back in, but I will paint them delicately, two brown semi circles unevenly tilted and arched in a questioning way. and calico cats perched all around me, purring in contentment at the foot of their white haired wild mistress. and around my neck, will hang a necklace, unlike any other.

sea glass, in every shade of blue and green that the ocean has to offer, wrapped with gossamer threads, of gold. The necklace is long and hangs low. I clutch the excesses in between my fingers, like rosary beads. I am a blind woman reading braille strung from my neck. The necklace is my life, each bead is a memory. When I am old, I will have this to remember each moment, that I fear I might forget. I will run my hands along them, indenting them with the heat of my fingertips, smoothing them further, polishing them with my tears. Salt water dreams, of things I wish to forever hold onto. My life as a necklace, you as a moment, held tightly in my clutching hands.