guardia di attraversamento
abbiamo detto tutti
quella Continue reading
The weather turns cold and brown. Eyes shift blue.
I’m looking up. No longer at the ground. Continue reading
I’m snapping out of it blog tribe.
As a gypsy, minus my parents being 80 miles away – I don’t really have chunks of family somewhere. If I didn’t have a global cult of love-tribe who check in on me from time to time, it’s possible I might be classified a recluse.
Not that I’m misanthropic. Clearly not, or I wouldn’t fall in love every day, and I certainly wouldn’t live in midtown Manhattan. I love many humans, it’s just that since my divorce – I’m usually alone (minus the babies).
Anyways, last night I saw a favorite person who greeted me with, “How’s your boyfriend?”
Uuuuuuugh. Continue reading
direction to affection’s destruction
I cannot find love. Inside this. Madness. Continue reading
is a map
to this: place
rhythm. Continue reading