magic in the mud.

my apartment is bigger than my home.

so we kissed. and kissed and hugged and kissed.
and then i traded my love for a parking permit.

i don't want to go to sleep because it means another day has passed.

sometimes when i'm reading and i read something that i love- a paragraph, a phrase, a word, a sentence, an idea- i'm looking through a keyhole into a lush garden of tentacle vines and tree trunks and spongy moss that i've never seen before. so i read it again and i don't turn the page. i set the book down, i get up and walk around and feel baby ( Read more... )

for good has never felt so transient.

when we opened our eyes we saw an orange ball on the horizon, not burning, but glowing.
not sunset, but moonrise.

the rain washes away the heeby jeeby grit and kicks the magic up like pollen.

really though, what the hell happened to my productivity?

i hope i wrote large enough for marion to read my thank you note ( Read more... )