Sunday July 13, 2003: summer girl
The weather had been feeling like it wanted to storm all afternoon. The clouds were heavy, the wind was kicking up, and yet nothing was happening.
I was cleaning the house, hair in pigtails and a leopard-print bandana on my head, and I stopped in the doorway and leaned against the wall. I saw the first drop fall. and then another. I walked out the door and looked up.
A warm shower opened up above me, and I stood there with my face towards the pearly grey heavens. Crystal drops on my face, my hands, tangled in my hair. The warm ground rough on my feet, the kitten bouncing out of the bushes to try to join me and bouncing right back in.
In three minutes the rain swept by and was gone, leaving only the smell of warm wet concrete behind.
This week and weekend have been wall-to-wall things to do and people to see, and vice versa. There was Chris over for dinner Thursday night, an all-day meeting and then a date with Laura on Friday, the outlet mall on Saturday with Sterling and another dinner with Chris the same day,and then gaming today. Next week looks not quite as full, but it's early yet.
I do know that I'm going to the Lavender Festival in Sequim with at least Sterling and Chris and possible one more person, if we can find a soul amenable to the activity and the company before Saturday.
My sociability level varies so much with the seasons. It's summer and I am constantly with people--hanging out, playing games, having sex, talking. It's such a contrast with my winter self, when my loner nature comes to the front and I mostly spend quiet time by myself, reading and thinking and creating.
I am the summer girl right now, and this is my growing season, cramming in a year's worth of movement in six shot months before winter's greyness swallows me again.
I will enjoy it while it lasts and know, when it ends, that is always comes again.
ananda
It always begins
like this:
my desire, steel-edged and she
standing, uncertain of what
will happen immediately after the next
heartbeat
they always wait, and I never mind
going first
slide in under the radar
a tiny kiss on the jaw
the first lines on the map of mutual desire
teeth bared a little, a nip
to say hello to the soft soft
unexplored countries
The nervous conversations mean nothing
at times like these
there is steel and there is flesh and both will give way
in breathless
soundless wordless dreamless
yes
but right now it is the moment before
and we are both inside ourselves
and the door between us is electric
and just now
becoming visible
(ananda is Sanskrit for bliss.)
The sky has been all sorts of marvelous shades of grey tonight. I've been putting together some t-shirt designs for a friend, finally getting a poem that has been percolating in my head for months out on paper, and just relaxing a bit before the work week starts.
I feel like stretching myself along a beach and just watching the water go by, right now.
I think, instead, I'll head towards bed.
I was cleaning the house, hair in pigtails and a leopard-print bandana on my head, and I stopped in the doorway and leaned against the wall. I saw the first drop fall. and then another. I walked out the door and looked up.
A warm shower opened up above me, and I stood there with my face towards the pearly grey heavens. Crystal drops on my face, my hands, tangled in my hair. The warm ground rough on my feet, the kitten bouncing out of the bushes to try to join me and bouncing right back in.
In three minutes the rain swept by and was gone, leaving only the smell of warm wet concrete behind.
This week and weekend have been wall-to-wall things to do and people to see, and vice versa. There was Chris over for dinner Thursday night, an all-day meeting and then a date with Laura on Friday, the outlet mall on Saturday with Sterling and another dinner with Chris the same day,and then gaming today. Next week looks not quite as full, but it's early yet.
I do know that I'm going to the Lavender Festival in Sequim with at least Sterling and Chris and possible one more person, if we can find a soul amenable to the activity and the company before Saturday.
My sociability level varies so much with the seasons. It's summer and I am constantly with people--hanging out, playing games, having sex, talking. It's such a contrast with my winter self, when my loner nature comes to the front and I mostly spend quiet time by myself, reading and thinking and creating.
I am the summer girl right now, and this is my growing season, cramming in a year's worth of movement in six shot months before winter's greyness swallows me again.
I will enjoy it while it lasts and know, when it ends, that is always comes again.
ananda
It always begins
like this:
my desire, steel-edged and she
standing, uncertain of what
will happen immediately after the next
heartbeat
they always wait, and I never mind
going first
slide in under the radar
a tiny kiss on the jaw
the first lines on the map of mutual desire
teeth bared a little, a nip
to say hello to the soft soft
unexplored countries
The nervous conversations mean nothing
at times like these
there is steel and there is flesh and both will give way
in breathless
soundless wordless dreamless
yes
but right now it is the moment before
and we are both inside ourselves
and the door between us is electric
and just now
becoming visible
(ananda is Sanskrit for bliss.)
The sky has been all sorts of marvelous shades of grey tonight. I've been putting together some t-shirt designs for a friend, finally getting a poem that has been percolating in my head for months out on paper, and just relaxing a bit before the work week starts.
I feel like stretching myself along a beach and just watching the water go by, right now.
I think, instead, I'll head towards bed.
