What I wouldn't give.
My horoscope for today: It's a good day to sneak into a swimming pool, go skinny dipping and dry in the sun. Then repeat.
A steady rhythm
many hands upon the earth
beating between you and I
[what little space there is]
Giants in the sky, billowing high
above us, looming over
thousands of rain-soaked heads
[awaiting relief.]
"You and I [we sing] together
huddled in this stormy weather
beneath our sheltering parapluie
covering only you and me."
Silence breaks reverberation,
and the shadow cast
only covers half of me.
Wet knees, toes freezing
nestled in woolen socks
a makeshift shelter.
"You and I [we sing] together
huddled in this stormy weather
beneath our sheltering parapluie
covering only you and me."
Soaked together, we ARE
painfully tender, huddled close
under our umbrella
stealing frozen kisses
[warm breath and two cold noses]
while our blistering nemesis
at last leaves us in peace
sinking low behind the tents and trees,
skyscrapers glinting on the horizon.
"You and I [we sing together]
huddled in this stormy weather
beneath our sheltering parapluie
covering only you and me.
Shivering,
slivers of rain down our backs,
what I wouldn't give
for this moment to last."
I write in my new journal, trying to break away from the themes of longing and sorrow. I'm done with that, even though I'm feeling it more acutely than ever.
There's a bite in the air today, reminiscent and highly suggestive of autumn. My favorite season. I didn't go swimming at all this summer. I wish I had. I miss the water.
But I also miss shuffling through the leaves in the gutter, feeling the cold on my nose and hands, making them pinker than usual. Is pinker a word?
My Sunset Boy is gone from me, bound for the shores of Aussie-land. I don't know what kind of talk we're going to have when he comes back. All I know is that I miss him. How can you know if a decision you make is the right thing to do for both of you? How can you possibly know? When it hurts so much that sometimes I just want to scream, "HOLD ME!" and have him hold me... I just know that I miss him with almost everything I have. How much of what my eyes are telling me [when they cry] is real?
A steady rhythm
many hands upon the earth
beating between you and I
[what little space there is]
Giants in the sky, billowing high
above us, looming over
thousands of rain-soaked heads
[awaiting relief.]
"You and I [we sing] together
huddled in this stormy weather
beneath our sheltering parapluie
covering only you and me."
Silence breaks reverberation,
and the shadow cast
only covers half of me.
Wet knees, toes freezing
nestled in woolen socks
a makeshift shelter.
"You and I [we sing] together
huddled in this stormy weather
beneath our sheltering parapluie
covering only you and me."
Soaked together, we ARE
painfully tender, huddled close
under our umbrella
stealing frozen kisses
[warm breath and two cold noses]
while our blistering nemesis
at last leaves us in peace
sinking low behind the tents and trees,
skyscrapers glinting on the horizon.
"You and I [we sing together]
huddled in this stormy weather
beneath our sheltering parapluie
covering only you and me.
Shivering,
slivers of rain down our backs,
what I wouldn't give
for this moment to last."
I write in my new journal, trying to break away from the themes of longing and sorrow. I'm done with that, even though I'm feeling it more acutely than ever.
There's a bite in the air today, reminiscent and highly suggestive of autumn. My favorite season. I didn't go swimming at all this summer. I wish I had. I miss the water.
But I also miss shuffling through the leaves in the gutter, feeling the cold on my nose and hands, making them pinker than usual. Is pinker a word?
My Sunset Boy is gone from me, bound for the shores of Aussie-land. I don't know what kind of talk we're going to have when he comes back. All I know is that I miss him. How can you know if a decision you make is the right thing to do for both of you? How can you possibly know? When it hurts so much that sometimes I just want to scream, "HOLD ME!" and have him hold me... I just know that I miss him with almost everything I have. How much of what my eyes are telling me [when they cry] is real?