you cannot ask the desert
why it keeps existing

overheard - some cliched histrionics?

"this is what i wanted from the moment i first met you."
"i should have given you that wake up call."
"you are so sexy. it's incredible. you are so sexy. so good. so good."

"i thought i had lost my chance. i kept wanting to talk to you. i kept thinking, i've lost my chance to some old bald man..."
"thank god i gave you that lift."

sticks of light

kiss me, tenderize the night.

zelda fitzgerald:


Awriterwasallheeverwantedtobe...Butshedrifted
inandoutofthearts.Herpaintingreflectedherexaggeratederraticpersonality,
decorativethoughitwas.Andherobsessionwiththeballetultimatelydefeated
her. Yes, shewassearchingdesperatelyforsomegratificationofherveryown
anditwasavalidsearch,butitwasherillness,notScott,thatinterferedwith
achievement.8

E. E. Cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands