I miss coffee in the morning. I miss watching him roll cigarettes. I miss waking up next to him, which is crazy because I usually refuse to sleep next to anyone, generally speaking.
I miss how my heart drops the second I see him after being apart. I miss kissing him goodbye at the subway.
There’s something therapeutic to me about obsession. People fuck love up all the time. To me, having a lover to keep comes down to one major factor: obsession. Continue reading
It’s day three out of thirty something that my boyfriend is super far away.
I’ve been frantically consulting my international family from bases including France and England while also reaching out to Colorado and Boston.
I’m also trying to stay on the luthier’s clock, which is six hours ahead of mine – at the moment. Rome time.
Yesterday a Harlem associate came through to smoke cigars, drink Italian beer and talk about life. You just never know where you will land during the mysterious stroll of existence. Continue reading
c’era oceano tra noi;
stelle di collegamento
il nostro cielo. era il luogo dove i
finalmente trovato uno
da qualche parte … restiamo.
come non ho mai avuto bisogno
un altro amante; un impossibile
domanda quando tutto
tenuto le mie mani. baciò
le mie labbra. contro di me, mi sono sentito
come lui è un cerchio
e che l’amore può essere vero.
E io ero … per …
lui. ed era
there was ocean between us;
our heaven. was where i
finally found one
place of residence.
somewhere… we stay.
like i never needed
another lover; an impossible
question when everything
held my hands. he kissed
my lips. against me, i felt
like he is a circle
and that love can be true.
and i was… for…
him. and he was
- Well, I survived the first day. It contained slews of international texts and concluded with a three hour Skype conversation.
My general theory is that I’ll break some time during week two. It’s possible, however, with a trip to Rome in the making – it certainly takes a bit out of the sting. Continue reading
As fate would have it, the love of my life is leaving for thirty seven days. I understand the commitments of global citizenship. But fuck. Am I going to be one cranky scribe.
Scrittrice. Continue reading