cluttering the net since 2001

inscriptions engraved on folded pages in my heart

Saturday, Dec. 07, 2002
Falling asleep to talk of spiders and thoughts of unarmed houses, and liars away at sea. Cool cotton pillowcases creasing maps without direction across sleepy faces, warm bed entrapped under gallons of blankets flowing free. I catch some of those moments, singing voices lining up in my ear, silent tears falling at the wonder that created lyrical messages for loved ones, I close my eyelashes around these simple things and go where there are no alarms to catch me and bring me back. Always saying thank you for what was given, and more grateful for what is yet to come. A future, a customer, a dream, a trust…all of these things were what my dreams last night were floating nearly above. A sky blue, a storm purple, I stood and watched perfect hair in my dream never moving on the dream screen, and I woke laughing out loud, then thankful that something that was once his, is forever mine. And then I smiled because a someday kind of pen remains far from the tangled up weapons of ink lined up like armies lost forever.


Lying in a bed a thousand miles away

i didn't sleep well last night though
i want a new bed talking with diagonal words
just to sleep in, not write on its sheets
to remember years worth of pain
a big tall princess bed that i have to climb up into
i want a boy to cook dinner for
breakfast brought on white chunky plates down the hall
...padding with my big furry slippers and messy bed hair
i want a wrap around porch to swing on
orange juice in a morning glass even if its winter

i dreamt last night that i was naked
it was raining and my eyes were blindfolded
i was outside,
i could feel the wind across my body
making me shiver
and then there were hands on my body
and I ripped the blindfold off and looked down to see....
and it wasn't hands holding fingerprints
it was butterflies flying around my thighs
I reached out to catch them
Finger’s dancing on down feathers
...and the evidence got away



And yesterday I got presents, jammed into my mailbox. I got smiles tied to paper and pen drawings of holly, a tree made of sprigs and candy from Britian and books with notations and I sat on a chair and I smiled. I closed my eyes with knowing what distance is, but it was closed by simple postage thoughts. Today he phoned and we spoke for quite awhile about everything under the sun, and I swear it is my friends who take the time to speak with him that are keeping my sights set on a brighter horizon. The books…wonderful….the fact that he wrote in them and perhaps 100 years from now someone will see them and wonder….wonder just who we were, and if the books were read….

inside cover inscription…

Nov 2002
To my good American friend who will always be my good American friend! from
BraN (smilie face drawing he always signs with)

inside cover inscription…

Nov 2002
May you too have many exciting world journies in your life!
BraN (smilie face drawing he always signs with)

5:42 p.m. ::
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