Wednesday, May 13, 2015
Good Morning, my Lovelies. That silent glow grows on the horizon as our warm friend rises to greet us. Golden arrows shoot towards us over the eastern mountain tops as the sun gains momentum.
Like a body whose beauty is paralyzing and blinding, the radiance emanates from every curve of its landscape and you struggle to take it all in at once. It's easy to parse it up and start at the top of the head sweeping slowly down to the toes, inhaling with your eyes.
The first syllable is like the first half of the word IF, just the ih part. Then the F does the heavy lifting for the stressed second syllable and you know how we do Fs, drag your bottom lip under your front top teeth into the ool, making certain to purse your lips well for the long U sound. And the l should bring your tongue to the roof of your mouth quickly but gently. The final syllable is like the sudden pleasant surprise exclaimed about a rather well-dressed and polite man: GENT! Except ease the e sound slightly towards a u sound. Not all the way! Just a taste.
adj.-- shining forth brilliantly; radiant
She always was bright...as a matter of fact, she burned my retinas and melted my wings. But I crashed into the ocean with a blind grin on my singed countenance.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015
You know that vision in the back of your brain that seems wonderful but couldn't have been real, there's a dream that you remember so clearly you must have been awake. She held you tightly on top of a mountain and you can still remember the smell of her hair, some sort of faint perfume, soft and flowery with a little grapefruit but also the hint of sweat, heat coming off her freshly exercised body. But did it really happen...
n.-- a distortion of memory in which fact and fantasy are confused.
Looking back, it's hard to separate them, the dream and the anticipation from what actually conspired. And then I wonder, does it really even matter? Does she remember the same mixture of desire and destiny? Perhaps none of it occurred. Nothing really matters now that it's over, right? Might as well have been a complete fabrication. She never showed up and you never talked to her. But the imagination has a way of making things lovely nonetheless.