this morning and off with TT up into the air...off and up into the snow slick sky. they divide and fall as ashes, grey and dead on my hot cheeks.

and this afternoon they leave, fuckboy and his grrlie...she's more than that, of course, but i will have to nick her later, a keeper that one, she is.

madhatter: no room no room no room!

but they are gone

and the sad settles like dust, filling my corners and cracks...soon i'll heal for the week, i will. it is the way, my weeks now a constant state of rebirth.

i still like bing alone

i just have to remember that, and forget the soft of skin, his breath in my hair, our toes doing their old dance.

i shall call zig...

allyoursmurf: it's finger lickin' zig!

and help her paint the trim in her lovely-est of lovely home...ooh! and watch the fish for a while!

whee!

*dials the number*

last night i dreamt about a huge tidalwave, building up at the shores edge while i watched from the tidepools, eating the sweetest and most delicious of golden apples. the juice runns down my chin and wrists...while, an idea! i'll dive down and hold onto the corral when it passes...then all will be well. i know this.