One by one they surrender
the idle, the pretentious, the threadbare.
The nebulous pivot, warm in alliteration,
hands cascade over curves twice their volume.
A velvet crushed frock draped
in your heartbeats bolts across the floor.
We are young, naive as such, willing to spare.
I drink the ethanol from your lips,
your eyes pollen-hazed. And we dance
tripping on fascination, two Ateliers
locked in armistice. You”ll never outdo me
my soul is vociferous and psychedelic.
I glimpse you spilling wine into the washbasin
squeamish silks a fracture of misaligned palates.
You’re mad, mind-fucked by the divine,
I love you in all the ways that stigmatize.
We are still painting. We had the idea to paint and stencil a pattern, that takes a long time haha. This week I am truly slammed aside from the painting/clean up. I have several meetings, a fund-raising event for Isadora’s school plus Lucia. I have so many pinched nerves right now! Left wrist, right shoulder, right hip. I have a brace for my wrist which works wonders but the other stuff I am just going to have to wait it out and try to relax. I attempted to write something for you today. Please forgive me for the lack of comments this week and the slowness.