The last night I saw you was the only night my dog ever pissed on my floor. She did it while you were here doing drugs in my bathroom that were delivered by my dealer in a silver BMW about twenty minutes ago. These are things that happen in Manhattan. I’ve known you for almost two years now and you have begged and pleaded and played on the weakness my divorce cut me with and broke both of my knees. I’ve given you a lot. Too much. Things I...
I've been writing in French lately... éveil internationale et ses paroles sont devenues mon pinceau. mon inspiration. mon amour. soudain, je pensais en français… pinot noir. creme brule. baisers à Manhattan en - rêvant de l'Australie. et mon monde élargi. couleurs que tout a commencé quand j'ai regardé dans les yeux. international awakening and his words became my paintbrush. my inspiration. my love. suddenly i was thinking in french…...
hurricane draft when it started… hearing his voice (like sunlight on your face) became… natural. and his words were… (wind in your hair) Art. to make you. pace. blown away - (mon trésor, mon amour) cattails. floating on the breeze.
safe bet i would never tell how he invited he asked and begged and i did… not. i never made any assumption. like, what he wishes i would think about providing. i could consider to bring someone in. (i heard he keep his promises.)
Per Australia time, it's my husband's ("ex husband") birthday today. Saint Patrick's Day. It's been a minute since I've written poetry. It spilled from my fingertips tonight: restructuring stay there. can only be one. he and (eye) promises. a lot of vows. teeth chatter swearing. i dressed in shades of declaration. when you never want anything. seek a shape and style to convince the rest that. “i’m ok.” no one wears this… look. protection...