love's so strange

i sleep in a little, long enough to miss school, but i don't mind as school is almost over...

i wake up warm, sitting in my own blood. victory. my period has come.

i find a book and read some of it. i'm overcome with the texture of words, and i'm reminded why writing is like life. it isn't some seperate, cold hard dead thing.

stories are the ghosts of events. slightly different, yes. but still holding the truth, or some truth. painting vibrant pictures across the back of your eyelids.

sitting under sunlight in my own blood on this june morning, worry tucked away like chaos in the corners of my mind, i thought to myself:

i'm in love.

i'm in love and it's a glorious miraculous thing.

i think about the details, the texture, the complexity of just sitting with you, letting my fingers run across your skin, getting to know you in a physical tangible sense.

the sheer exposing vulnerbility of touch. the need and longing. which suddenly is fulfilled.

my back presses up against you when i'm sleeping. i can feel the rythm of your breath.

i can pull you into me, feel you at my core.

and then we can play duck hunt and watch south park and come up with theories about evolution. and this what everyone is always talking about. i'm in love.

and it makes me want to dance around the house.

2006-06-15