darling

we met one year ago today

hi, I love you 

this year has been the happiest of my life

living in love 

graced by the care and kindness of a good man 

bises

WANT

come home already dream man 

well nothing's for certain until we've signed, but...

I sure do have my fingers crossed.

hello beautiful (potential) new home 

dreamlife/reallife

your absence pervades my dreams
I searched for you for hours last night
and woke up
again and again
confused
at being
alone in our bed

hi i want you

like this

friday morning in the south country

wake up wrapped up in good strong loverman arms
you are beside the sea
you are warm
play all morning
have coffee and croissant with blackberry & peach jam
read the new york times art section
retire to upstairs to write
in bed
looking across the sea at mount baker

I am here and I am happy
everything is so good
x

instruments

\

black and gold peacock engraved trumpet

It's February 1st and minus 30 in Alberta right now

today I went for my first bike ride of 2011! Woooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee it was great. I skipped school all day, and wore shorts, and my hottie boyfriend and I went to the sea and watched the city and drank delicious jj bean hot chocolate that tastes like soft serve ice cream.

life rules!

winter afternoon dreaming

A very close friend of mine once paid me the sweetest compliment I've ever received
You remind me of a Klimt painting 

the aesthete/nerd/ego in me exploded in happiness as I saw myself through her eyes: 

dreaming, naked, golden and alone

but now I dare to think she saw something different

(its better here)

deep blue love hallucinations

your mouth took me into the most brilliant sea I've ever seen 

Song

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human--
looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love--
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
--cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy

--must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.

The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye--

yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.

                        - Allen Ginsberg 

Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction

I hole up in a cave in my brain 

cannot be bitter, cannot deny, cannot withhold if denied: the weight is too heavy

heart has first say more than ever before 

I always wanted, I always wanted, to return to the body where I was born

when you spend 20 years looking for some one 

finding them 

is unimaginable 

I live in unreality 

my life is dream life

no rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love 

(hole up/heart has first say/dream life)

christmas with all/ christmas without

missing 

being 

this 

close

distance makes the heart go mad

I miss my man 
x


this much: ∞ 

Some moments instantly become memories. 

This summer I nearly burnt my house down. My hands were bandaged fingers to forearm for weeks, and I was, of course, unable to shower alone. My man and I took our first shower together in this time. The First Shower is supposed to be ultra-sexy and a bit porny, hands all over each other, mouths exploring, water making skin sensitive and organs wet. For our First Shower I stood arms up, useless hands resting against tiled wall and shower curtain, trying to keep the bandages dry. He sweetly soaped and cleaned my body and the combination of pain killers and self pity and helplessness and frustration made it very very hard not to cry. 

I'm a proud woman and I didn't want to cry in front of this new lover, body soaper. Luckily when you cry in the shower the streaming water camouflages your tears so as long as you're not ugly-crying, as long as you're keeping quiet, you can hide it, easy. 

I felt like a defeated boxer, arms up, waiting for a brotherly trainer to unlace my gloves. 

And this is how we began. Me, the ex-fighter. He, the un-lacer. Me, the bittersweet defeated. He, the caregiver. 

The bandages have been off for months now, and the scars have almost disappeared. I try to keep the boxing gloves off as well, but sometimes, the old meanness, the old fear comes out and I lace up. And he always, always, unlaces me. 

leave house

roam roam roam + make make make + know know know

(room room room)+ (fake fake fake) + (no no no)

NO ROOM FOR FAKES

caribou knows

x

(today we saw caribou bones)

yes I said yes I will yes

this morning my eyes were so full of sleep they almost ALMOST couldn't look at the sweet thing beside me we sleep late always and we sleep like a hundred foxes tangled up in each other all snouts and tails and fur until our skin melts and we become a blessed one together. everywhere we can. everything we can. I want him for thousands of reasons but also because I've known worse, he wants me for thousands of reasons but also because he hasn't known anything but goodness and this sounds scary and wrong but it makes me the luckiest woman in the world, and I keep my poisoned history to myself, and I don't let the devils in, and so my man and I float in and out of each other play like children adventure everywhere and say yes over and over and over again.

Mr. William Carlos Williams singing sweet to me

We sit and talk,
quietly, with long lapses of silence
and I am aware of the stream
that has no language, coursing
beneath the quiet heaven of
your eyes

which has no speech; to
go to bed with you, to pass beyond
the moment of meeting, while the
currents float still in mid-air, to
fall-
with you from the brink, before
the crash-

to seize the moment.

We sit and talk, sensing a little
the rushing impact of the giants'
violent torrent rolling over us, a
few moments.

If I should demand it, as
it has been demanded of others
and given to swiftly, and you should
consent. If you would consent

We sit and talk and the
silence speaks of the giants
who have died in the past and have
returned to those scenes unsatisified
and who is not unsatisified, the
silent, Singac the rock-shoulder
emerging from the rocks- and the giants
live again in your silence and
unacknowledged desire-

And the air lying over the water
lifts the ripples, brother
to brother, touching as the mind touches,
counter-current, upstream
brings in the fields, hot and cold
parallel but never mingling, one that whirls
backward at the brink and curls invisibly
upward, fills the hollow, whirling,
an accompaniment- but apart, observant of
the distress, sweeps down or up clearing
the spray-

tu es mon soleil

et tu me fais tres tres tres content.


(uh oh, falling falling falling falling falling in love again)

happy kitten

first you tasted like rolling tobacco-

and now its Sunday morning and we named my bed Church.