I am thrilllingly in love with Moloko

I like the way your body slumps against your will at the end of it, when you cry out like your heart is breaking in a very quiet powerful way. I like the salty water we swim in, the bold crashing waves of here touch here and then now just a little yes. My indigo hair against your darker skin than my pale white. Just a little sad shoe shuffle, one foot moving after the other, both of us cheek to cheek. We’re dancing like the filler background to an old black and white movie. We’re not the heroes anymore, they’re over in the spotlight and we’re laughing too softly. The music would be something jazz, sweet and quiet and slightly tired. This is the recovering afterburn, coming down from fire setting stone earlier. Earlier was heat in the belly, hands tangled in hair, tangled in rythms pressed from hot bodies. Slipping flesh into empathy, slippery silks like folds slick. Shallows of lust on the tongue, vibrations in the blood – it’s old fashioned magnetic resonance. Picture this, this girl, how when she sleeps her fingers curl to cut the palms of her hands as she tries to pull your ghost inside of her.

to match with this

an essential boil down sentence

I feel almost well today but for the thick woolen pad of idiocy muffling my thoughts and the thick black-brown underneath my fingernails. I close my eyes and no longer feel dizzy. I’m winning out against this and it cheers me. I talked to Brian for a few hours last night, his recommendation was to wallow in it. Embrace my sickness and give it everything it asks for. We were discussing the judgments that spring up in relationships, how it’s always a choice to pay for things with emotion. “Don’t do it. It’s never worth it.” Right before he hung up, he said, “I want things to be easy for you.” which is one of those statements which cuts through anything I might be thinking about. It’s one of the sincere expressions of care. I said thank you, and thank you, and thought to myself, “how is it that such people care for me so much? what is it that I’m doing so right?” I slipped into sleep wondering and happy, buoyed up by that one little sentence, then the phone rang. It was a blank sky morning and Jenn was calling, confirming my coming over. I’m going to help clean a bit before her wedding. There is a party at her house Thursday night which is being partially usurped as Ray‘s birthday, (which is really today).

Happy Birthday Lovely Ray!

It’s not overcast, it’s more than that, gray with no fluctuation as far as the eye can grasp. I think, dress warmly kitten, this day wants to bite your ankles, and I imagine snow, how I miss snow, how much fun it would be to leave the house and have white ground crunch beneath my feet. I suppose I woke today thinking Toronto thoughts, thinking of orange vans and motorcycles, of lightning storms and five in the morning chinese food, of coffeehouse murals and dancing on the streets barefoot in the middle of the day. It’s the gray sky today, because in the summer there the sun creates fog from the lake, a roiling cloud to splinter the light into a million muggy rainbows. It creates a pale sky over downtown that you can see by the perspiration slick on your skin, by the way your hair doesn’t quite dry from the shower for another three hours.