Submergence - Apple - Inhale

Inhale....apple.

Exhale.....?!?!?!
This is what cancer stick feels like.

And sometimes it feels like love.
But.

No.

So what do we do?

We.

Submerge.

Ben

Quiet, heavy, solemn.
Sandy Hair.
Struck.
Frozen.
Moving, but still.
Calm, Muddy, Grey seas.
Particles in my toes.
Drops in my pink skirt.
Scruched at my feet.
no. wait.
clinched in my hands!
(knuckles burning white)

i worry about my legs.
-----------------------
what do they look like?

but snap happy he goes.

a living reminder.

he made everything new.
and reminds me daily: we are free.
of gravity

i felt watered.
a singing tree.

next time: i shall ask him.
and if we live in canada.
we'll go skating on the ice.

our silhouettes
are quiet
i'm no longer a skeleton
because, not, allowed.

Ripened Fruit

Persimmons....

i dont understand persimmons very well. i dont understand many things for that matter.being happy.knowing, and remembering it. pulling your lips to a widening smile. eyes widening too. when you dont even know what it is. being happy. some damn'd mystery. just cause' it is undeniably natural. is it what we are capable of? is it a frightening power?

and i am forever drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.

one day, i was given a new box of pastels. oil pastels. faber castle. they are strange. tough. polished. but not entirely accesible.
i grind it into the paper. and rubbed the oranges and yellows.

three persimmons.on a blue, unreal, fake, make-believe wishful thinking kind of checkered blue.
the way a child thought a sky should look like. (except i always thought it was blue organza over black gown, even on the lightest day)

mother loved it so much. hung it up like a trophy. or something to hold on to.

to me, three pieces of fruit never meant much.
at least far less than what it means to mother.
(she probably jus enjoyed the colours)
(or simply because i am her baby)
i try to imagine her thoughts of me as a baby. and now still one.
i guess she knew then,that i will leave, and lose myself, before i shall return.

yesterday,
i returned.

once again, i sat on the rug. leaning against the bookcase.
gazing up at the infinite warmth.
breathing slowly. tasting them.
they brought light into this hallway.
or more?

i realise, and remembers.
of a time.
when i dont have to paint and know the answer.
but just to paint and ask.
paint.
and wonder.

i'm a toddler once again.
and i hear her say,
"it's okay. for today. just enjoy the colours".

yeah.
okay.

Names - Overkill

Those Dang Silly Phases.

Wait: how do you call a phase that doesnt go away???

I want: two turtles, two rabbits, two cats, and a dog.
I want: two tortoises, two rabbits, two cats, and a Lab Retriever.
I want: two tortoises ("One" and "two"), two rabbits one of which has floppy ears, two cats (twins?), and a black Lab Retriever.
I want: two turtoises ("Rasputin" and "Topaz"), two rabbits ("Placid and Bono"), two cats ("Dee" and "Flozzah") and a Lab Retriever.
I want....

*humph*
I've thought about this quite a lot havn't i?
anyways, let's get to the point.
wait.
what is it again?

okay.
right.
now.
my point being!!!
-- sooner or later you realise you need to move on from yoru childhood goldfishes...
and before you know it you are finding clown'sh clownie little wittle Nemos...


it's called aging.
(maybe)

Bored (Post Killing Game)

A Luxury!!!!

So let's ......

Play dead.

Afterwards:

We can go eat some Ginger Kisses...

(Mmmmm)

Hair

Last night cat dyed my hair.

It is now wheat-grass dry.
But i'm not.

and i look purple black...



yup.