Line my eyes with coffee grounds and mush me into the disposal. Send an icecube down after to keep the blades clean and the air fresh.
Frost my shoulders with home made pink icing and set me on a platter so I can gleam sweetly when you carry me into the room where the whole world is singing.
Strap me to your back and arch your muscles like you think a bird might before you jump off the overpass and I do my best to support you.
Keep me in an envelope in your coat pocket, mixed in with tobacco leaves and phone numbers written on the back of ticket stubs. You'll forget about me in the warm months, but I have time to wait for the snow.
Posted by sonya at November 12, 2002 01:53 PMReading "Keep me in an envelope in your coat pocket, mixed in with tobacco leaves and phone numbers written on the back of ticket stubs. You'll forget about me in the warm months, but I have time to wait for the snow." made my stomach clench up and the hair stand up on my neck. Wow. I don't think I've read such an incredible collection of statements in a long time. It makes the idea of summer seem incredibly sad. If I were not with someone I'm crazy about right now, I'd be crying. Beautiful. I love your clock, by the way.
Posted by: Starlagoat on November 12, 2002 06:54 PMThis is absolutely gorgeous pain. There is power and grim beauty that rips the masks off of the righteous and exposes the baleful stare of reality.
I salute you, and I entreat you to review http://BITTER.truegeek.org/ to see if you find yourself in a similar groove.
(I can't believe I found such a delicate, wonderful thing from, of all things, Google's "related:" search run on my own blog.)
Ooh, that was lovely.
Posted by: Sarah B. on November 13, 2002 02:49 PM