Thursday, February 11, 2010

glabrous pine

I have felt tired all day, all languid and liquidy, befitting a sea goddess or sea monster, but mind included, so not conducive to writing.

I am having one of those days when I would like to express myself in nonverbal mode, though with my mouth, certainly [insert Dixieland jazz brass] which was a dream last night before I woke, my round full [insert sax solo] your mouth. I sliced a small nectarine and ate it slice by slice, imagined sharing it with you, meeting in the nectarous middle with a [percussion]. Your [insert bass solo, backed with percussion] loved it.

It slowly came to me this afternoon that I wonder if you have bought a house hard by lapping waters where it's secluded and protected and we can fish outdoors...

Let's see, back to nonverbal expression. My foot's moving to the beat of a sexy song - now I feel like dancing! I look forward to dancing with you, my sweet h. d. We are going to have such fun! [insert glabrous instrumental riff]

I.L.Y.S.

The neighbor's Norway pine, the one that the previous owner had almost set ablaze one winter night, is reaching and dancing. It's like a 70-foot tall green sea monster, solo and incongruous in the landscape in every way. It needs a mate.

Would you like to taste my rosé? Lean in then, let me kiss you.

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