With a Doctor before my name. I guess reading, writing and music is part of it. Somehow, we would anticipate all those in the back of our mind.

Fifteen definitions of my favorite curse word. is it because i push them away? Is it because they get sick of me? I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. I need to do a load of laundry. This coffee has gone cold. my mouth now tastes like puke. My cat just jumped on my stomach and started to knead and her claws are really really sharp.

Brown feaux-leather chair, curled legs, laptop burned lap. Big windows, daydream panes. How would it feel? Uncurled, yellow lines, deluged clothing,. Red and white stained glass windows,. A bridge from microwave to sink. Marching towards the recycling bin,. A bed of cardboard and forgotten intentions,. Forgiveness for the egg donor? Maternal epidemic passed through generations.

Money bees herded and trucked. Into meadows, food gardens,. They call it a cat. A breeze shakes the leaves. And wings away into night. He sounded so much better.

One breath at a time. Of the present moment, too. Is in the daily living. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Create a free website or blog at WordPress.

I was just what you wanted. But not what you wanted me to be. Not what you wanted the world to see. If by no one else at least by you. But that was too much for you to do. I was so different from you. Never once did you try to relate. Much easier to simply berate. All grown up I tried to change. And you accepted who I became. Nobody more important than me.

The World Is A Big Place. The world is such a big place. That I feel like I could step on dry leaves at a thousand different places and their creaks would all cry a different wish. And that if I watch the sunset from different shores of land the breeze that blows my hair would be different each time. Maybe the clouds would be different and the invisible, almost inaudible whispers would start saying different things. And I would get to step on the net of time.

As the sunshine itself dances. Upon the fall of your chameleon hair. That shines golden brown now. The curve of your lips say i know. And the dark of your eyes say no. And whether it is you or the sun. And whether the two have any difference. Is to feel your sunwarmed skin. Is to feel if it is as soft and warm.

From a key in a. In my hands, the. Soul the same as a.

For readers, writers and whimsical word lovers. Pamela Dorman Books, 480 pages. I even went so far as to buy my own copy.