Questions

And I why he me all. He is hard one love. Does know him I do? I continue, my heart any more? heart has retreated . I this somehow. am back the safekeeping my true arms.

I got new content

the light is on a dimming

down

and I almost made it, strong

three days is not four 

but still more than two and one

safety in numbers, 

he said

he always says, math

polymath!

amorous

is my love

there are things I never mentioned to you

maybe 

I don't remember, if you were listening

oh it doesn't matter

I think I am beginning

to have an

understanding

of

it's

because

you see me as your mother ?

laughter

I am not! 

But I could be 

anyone's mother

because I am one

I'm so happy you love her

Sketches

5. The night sleeps, pulled every living thing under its cover. 

I am not dead. Unless you consider my devotion a tomb. Mind, once fluid, now a rock in preservation of your memory.

Imagination held down, nowhere to go, without you. 

I realize you hate this sort of expression. I'm searching for more to say. The games prove too harsh an environment for my fragile ego. 

Sketches

4. The faraway noise of children's television, a sensibility hammering hammering hammering away, it's own private voice, not easily quieted, in the stereophonic mind, the mailman drives past in his old jeep, the sun softly teases at the blinds, pulsing again to the throb of a life, tired from mental labor and physical hours, a drift, an immense and dreamless sleep

Sketches

2.

The world is still a beautiful place.

I see the trees softly blanketed in the morning fog.

His limbs warm around my womanly thighs.

The last minutes bundled in snuggle.

Soft breaths and cloudy sleep.

Sketches

1.

Vacant Mind
Dead Air Stare
Space So Spacious
Between Here And There
Not Too Much

I forget

He is tired of the word games, he is tired of it all.
We can watch cartoons and laugh like carefree children.
Or get toasty and chain-smoke, discussing music and life. He might go away and become a monk. There's a monastery in southeast China that accepts white people.
I tell him that they better or I'll kick their asses.
He is pissed about being under appreciated or broke or sex-less.
And suddenly,
I forget how to open up.