(no subject)
There are still children with feet in puddles, mouths awed, scarves around over eyes and maybe one is little between us Isabel Lorne who will sometimes be Artemis. What an amazing thought for hearts.
Are there really so many things we can't speak of? Maybe stare at the perfect place next to my hand or hip and speak of dandelions first to come around to what is hard. I know that I love you and I know that you want to keep me. Sometimes I want to be kept.
I found a perfect dog whose name is Kip - I'd call him Kip Temper for a while, then Temper. He is a beautiful live thing, constellations of exuberance in his eyes I bet, and short legs that take him in circles but get him there all the same.
Have you been here?
Are there really so many things we can't speak of? Maybe stare at the perfect place next to my hand or hip and speak of dandelions first to come around to what is hard. I know that I love you and I know that you want to keep me. Sometimes I want to be kept.
I found a perfect dog whose name is Kip - I'd call him Kip Temper for a while, then Temper. He is a beautiful live thing, constellations of exuberance in his eyes I bet, and short legs that take him in circles but get him there all the same.
Have you been here?