Today: Blood sugar checked out okay. No gestational diabetes for this mama yet!
Tomorrow: Dawn till Dusk in Brighton
Today: Good friend visited the farm
Tomorrow: The company of two young boys, a husband, and 8 hours of imagination
Today: Content
Tomorrow: The memories of February 14, 2005
My thoughts develop legs, like wine swirled in a glass. Light catches on the hues of red revealing new aspects of a delectable experience. Thoughts drift from an unusual calmness to marbles of insecurities being dropped. I finally have some space inside my head and in my pretend day timer to decorate my slate with thoughts.
The image of D and I lying on beach chairs under the night sky, bellies full, laughing at stories about families and lifestyles, brings back feelings of contentment. I left that evening feeling thankful, rounded with smiles, good food and wine. Sand remained hidden in my belly button for two days after, due to a dirty glass. I would find one some and play with it as a nice little granular reminder. The reason I asked him out in the first place was because his presence made my eyes close and neck extend. I expanded but didn’t pick with the sides of my thumbs in nervousness because of it. The desire to listen and touch is a fun feather for the brain to titillate.
Over the week we ebbed and flowed out of each others space. Each time I felt this simple clean hope I would see him again but complete serenity if I never did. Those things never go hand in hand with me. There usually is a mucky residue of freak-out lingering in the background. I am not sure if it is because of D or because of my growth and understanding of what I appreciate about men through this past year and a half. Each meeting revealed a new solidity in my spirit and the discovery of different ways a man’s face can smile. The last night of his trip I finally asked if he wanted me to stay, in the smoothest way I could (jumbling of words vomited out with a smile) and when he said yes I sprinted into the bathroom to sing this song:
Just around the corner,
There's a rainbow in the sky,
So let's have another cup of coffee,
And let's have another piece of pie.
Trouble's like a bubble,
And the clouds will soon roll by,
So let's have another cup of coffee,
And let's have another piece of pie.
Let's Have Another Cup of Coffee
(Irving Berlin)
From Songs of the Depression
I managed a small jitterbug dance and unstuck my top lip that had adhered to my gums from the smile I was sporting. I casually went back to the group of people we were sitting with. Later I fell asleep with his heart beneath my hand, the smell of his neck in my nose and peace of mind to be sharing a bed with a beautiful man. When I woke up out of a hot haze and remembered where I was, I curled into him again and enjoyed the feeling of hair on skin. Good morning was muttered and smiles cracked the stillness in the air. I think I could have lain there all day, sopping wet from our heat, my hand on the back of his head or his fingers relaxingly caressing the side of my face.
The gentle curve of his mouth after a kiss and the desire to taste more has tiptoed into my thoughts for the past few days. Life catches up to me and I adapt to my solidarity. Bae is away and the silence that surrounds the vacant houses around me is noted. I walk with pie graphs entering into my mind, dividing feelings of delight, acceptance and insecurity into pretty colours of pink and red. I found the following art work by Mark Jennings Reese that seems to illustrate this imagery to a T. The small sliver is for insecurities, the rest… delight. I would draw a balloon over the entire thing if I didn’t think it would ruin it, to symbolize the breeze of desire to see this man again.
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