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Lovely young thingsIt's exhausting, being young. New identities every day thrown aside as we tumble to sleep like so many dirty socks. We are all drunken galaxies spinning wild on twisted axes, flinging wide arms open, colliding to shatter and reform. Maybe youth is squandered here, on we self-centered creatures so free from gravity, but God do we waste it beautifully.Lovely young things
by ~savilcindy
Rush HourIt's strange how sometimes over coffee with a friend the brush of knees or knuckles says more than words exchangedRush Hour
And then you can stand in the
Metro rush hours pressed tight back-to-back with an unfamiliar body adjusting together to the
turns and starts and stops feeling the warmth of someone else and feeling nothing
Maybe this is the attraction of
one-night stands, the pure
anonymitiy, so simple and clean just the contact of two bodies staring blankly out the window until it's time to change lines
by ~savilcindy
Counting the Days to DepartureI am going to leave this house soon. I feel it when I look around, when I sit in the chair by the window where my dog used to stare and bark at his own reflection. The chair where I always foundCounting the Days to Departure
my father fast asleep, taking one of his famous naps. The room where I cried when I had chicken pox and they tortured me all night. The kitchen where I made cookies and lasagna and messes, and made friends over cups of tea. So many cups of tea in this house. I know every light switch, every lock (and how to pick them), every g
by ~savilcindy
Everyday Restoration of FaithI went for a walk today. I parked the car and strolled off into the woods, singing old jazz songs quietly to myself because it was the kind of rainy day that makes water hang beneath the leaves and gives everything blurred edges. I jumped over puddles and trotted across two-plank bridges, and made my way towards the beach. I don’t know why, but I find the beach a much nicer place when it’s raining than when it’s sunny. Maybe because no one else does, so there’s a feeling of intimacy and solitariness that is difficult to find in ordinary life. Thus, I was quite surprised to get there and fEveryday Restoration of Faith
by ~savilcindy
Favourites
Our GiftsI have been lured with the bait of understanding I have been trapped by murmured yeses and I know’s But you have a gift for saying What I wanted to hear And I for giving second chances And too much.Our Gifts
I am working on disentanglement I am striving for unhealthy detachment But you have a gift for doing All the right things At all the wrong times And I for trying to play your game.
I am tired of treading on thin ice I am sick of beating ‘round the bush And you have a tendency To misunderstand And I too say too much And still not enou
by ~eelang
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Bar Harbor, Maine, soon to be Paris, France
- Interests: Reading, writing, the usual business
- Favourite movie: Charade, The Hours, Assassination Tango, Raising Victor Vargas
- Favourite band or musician: Our Lady Peace and Cake are perennial favorites, but I'm currently infatuated with the Darkness
- Favourite genre of music: Guitary singer-songwriter unknowns
- Favourite artist: Degas and Waterhouse (original, I know, but I'm not a big art person)
- Favourite poet or writer: Margaret Atwood, Francesca Lia Block, Barbara Kingsolver, Dave Eggers, Yeats, Adrienne Rich
- Favourite cartoon character: Daria, I think, matched only by Trent
- Personal Quote: “I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I intended to be.”
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--
eel
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Remember the first dance we shared?
Recall the night you melted my ugliness away?
The night you left with a kiss so kind,
Only a scent of beauty left behind...
~Gavin
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