Esmeralda the Fortune Teller

Sometimes it's nice to pretend to be someone else.

Hello Again

This holiday between shopping on Oxford St and beaching on the Italian Riviera I had a lot of thinking time to do (as one does). And I got to thinking about this blog and why I haven't posted since May 26. First I felt sad, then I felt guilty (we all know what a bore that can be) and then I came up with an excuse I thought was rather nice which I'll share with you: It got too personal. I think my dad tried to ask me if I was gay because of this (in all fairness it is a rather unfortunately placed comma), people thought I was sad because of this, i got called "quite intense" I'm pretty sure because of this. And I started to worry that everything I posted would be taken literally so I started to censor myself which, in turn, kind of killed my creativity. But now I'm back (uncensored). I hope you're glad. I am. And please, comment. But don't ask me what I mean or who I'm talking about, because often it's nothing or no one at all.

I know it's sad,
but unfortunately it's true.
A lot of my wanting to wake up
has to do with seeing you.

Together we Slept

Hand in Hand.
Heart in Heart.

The Fear

Where are you?
I sit and wait.
Wait to see, to hear,
to touch, to feel.

I wait for bristles on cheeks
and hands on hips.

I wait for eyes meeting eyes
and flesh meeting fingertips.

I wait for a sound,
for a rush of air.

I wait to look up,
but you're still not there.

The only thing i can offer you is passion.

When the cure becomes the cause

you just have to let it go.