My unplugged-ness lusciously carries on. I’ve been considering my options to get a typewriter. While I always prefer writing by hand, I’ve been having daydreams about old school clacks and inky ribbons.

My husband is in Spain. While I’m waiting for him to return, I’ve been in the water. Mainly salt water. I’ve also been in the pool a few hours a day. My favorite times are at night, floating on a raft beneath a waxing moon.

My thoughts are poetry, that’s how I assess my health. When I’m at my best, I literally think in poems. Avoiding the internet and glowing screens naturally nourishes this process.

I’d like to produce a new poetry book. After purging three publications in three years, I’ve kept my work between leather bound covers spilt in blue gel ink.

I’ll probably get around to this once we’re on the island…

Saying I feel relaxed or centered are both ultimate understatements. I am beyond words. I am finally back to floating.

After realizing my first husband was evil, I had the most amazing period of proving how I never needed him in the first place. As a hopeless romantic, I adore needing my current husband now and completely forever.

… the real one.

As he so eloquently stated to me earlier today:

No puedo estar sin ti…

… and I curled my toes and thought in poetry.