Thursday, September 30, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
come to me again in the cold, cold night
Sunday, September 26, 2010
and it was in the lagoon that Peter found the mermaids.
Friday, September 24, 2010
MICE preview
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
my love has never lived indoors
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
stars speak autumn
Monday, September 20, 2010
naturally black and white
Thursday, September 16, 2010
pleated lamp shade, white iron bed
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
felines and botany, but first, love
Sunday, September 12, 2010
country mouse, city mouse
Friday, September 10, 2010
soft and plaid
Thursday, September 9, 2010
city and by starlight
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
a poem
I am dying from a love of bluejays.
The sleep of your eyes creates spaces for small dull aches at
the pit of my stomach, gentle ukulele strumming and
the wanderlust for your past that occurs in my mind when you aren’t
nearby to whisper
the okay things.
/
I am accustomed to men who only let me love them from a
distance, but I fit so in the palm of your hand
that this distance becomes my land and prison.
/
This seems to be the culmination of all my time spent here;
Walking empty rooms, finding and replacing past treasure
trove accommodations.
I am lost in a sea of them, my emotions become myself.
I long to differentiate,
to be only
/
the girl who touches the tips of trees
and whispers things to animals, and dreams up a time
she did not live in and wishes she were there.
/
I long to have the boy
who somehow takes me
There.