She’s a wrestler. If I asked her to teach me, would I be able to deal with everything that might happen afterwards? She’d pin me down with her body, and I’d let her. She’s sharp where I’m soft, all lean limbs and calculated movements and stark shadows. I’m room temp butter. I can’t stop thinking… Continue reading

Oh oh oh oh I made a fabulous one at work today: Goodnight Popcorn. It’s so cute! Continue reading

How much of me is too much? How much is too little? Would you like me spread thin over something with serrated edges? Fluffed up and folded-in thick? Not too much, just right, some more of that, please. No thank you, I’ll pass. Continue reading

Sharp focus? Nah. Syrupy, soupy warm and sweet existence. Time skips and lulls. Holds. That one thing never happened. This other thing is forever. Wine is awesome. Continue reading

Mmmmmmmmmmmm just want someone’s fingers in my hip dips and my thighs wrapped around them tight. Ankles crossed, hands over head, head thrown back and eyes shut tight. Maybe 24 will bring something close to this. Maybe it’ll only live in my head. Maybe. Continue reading

Violent loving. Not life of horror, not that. but living life voraciously. It’s time. Continue reading

I’m thankful for today. (Is it yesterday? Or maybe already tomorrow? I’m not sure. I haven’t slept yet). My watercolor art friend asked me if I was okay (and really genuinely meant it) which started a really good conversation about hard things. I opened up and it felt right. They’re so wise. And they’re going… Continue reading

It’s my birthday now, I guess. I played bingo with my friends here at a cool western style bar for a fundraiser and won the 7th game. I got some socks. Thank you for the invite, Fish Mom 🙂 Continue reading

Not the first one, but the second one. The first few years with her were fun. She’d put smiley face stickers on my music sheets and give me “jazzy” versions of obscure pop songs for recitals that she’d write out all of the fingering for. I’d walk out the door with a handful of Werther’s… Continue reading

In the dream she was sobbing. I don’t remember liking her all that much before, but her brother had just killed himself and so I held her as she wept. She keened and I massaged her petite back in a way I hoped was soothing. Long, deep, thoughtful strokes while my shoulder grew wetter and… Continue reading