melcreada: (witchy)

Damn American Idol, making me want to buy disco music. Noooooooo!!! Yuck. Am going to download the new Depeche Mode and Pet Shop Boys instead and then I will feel like my own woman again.

In wtf?! news, one of my ex-boyfriends contacted me through Facebook. Very strange to hear from him. We had some good times as a couple, but the break ups were messy and repetetive. The friendship that grew out of that survived us dating other people (including my dating a friend of his) and we were just a lot more fun as buddies. We finally ended things for good when he refused to invite me to his wedding because his bride didn't want me there (totally understandable but it hurt because ALL our friends went). And here we are, ten years later. Weird but good.

My boss recently brought some tamarind apples into work and now I am mad craving them, even though my sister the dental hygienist will get after me for eating them because tamarind destroys tooth enamel. Boo!

And since the month is drawing closer to an end (I KNOW, right?!), I feel I must post a little more poetry:

Save as Draft

Or write as poem. The whole point is often
what we miss out on. To revise is to reconsider
the experience of, say, a leaf — never mind
that it is not green anymore. Or, pardon the sudden
evening. The transition was nice enough;
the explosive colors of dusk. And, didn’t you feel
so much sadness? I cannot explain it any better
than how I could when the outlines were still there:
trees and some wonderful new shapes.
Since then, things have changed. A pale hand
moves in the darkness. And someone is calling out,
come to bed, come to bed. And it is just you.
The evening insists on evening. It is that simple.
It is late enough as it is.


-- Joel M. Toledo





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February 2018

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