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All those years

Of nothing

And now

You, your sister's bridesmaid,

With your hair pinned

And a boyfriend with a pocketful of Es.

Now is not a good time.

He's a good guy,

lovingly building a log cabin

In a hillside paradise

For you.

As for me?

Now is not a good time

My stone heart

Would melt to magma

Its caustic lava

Suffocating and burning

All.

And then cooling to pumice.

We smile. We hug.

In Tennis

Love All

Is Never Announced

It Happens Before

A Point

Has Been Scored

Sally Electric*

Her milk and honey heart

http://www.flickr.com/photos/33281057@N05/with/3676843734/

a cryptic triptych

**This is a draft I'm submitting here for comments and what not.  Please let me know what you think - Argun

Her milk and honey heart

Early morning dreamlike

Winter cold pillow before the pearl

Firm soft body outlined against the mattress boat

Awaits the faint impulse fuzz

She shall stand to meet her mirror

Impulse fuzz into the buzz of an silver electric bee hive.

Milk and honey vapor and then no more

Electric Heart Sally Go Go Go

the evening is balmy

"i am blue" 

and all the girls 

   have the faces

       of 

In the field there were many vegetables growing some were even sprouting above the ground of the cold icey air, poor buggers not like your traditional jersey's all wrapped up lovely and warm the the soiled jacket.

Spuds are bloody lovely they grow in the ground despite the tempreture, and as far as the eye can see spuds could be growing within the soils yummy surface. I bet leeks can't always do that I betcha radish's can't blooming do that.

G           u        may   fly
Y        O     o
K        R     l
S U R F A C E------------------
K       R      l            may  fly
Y       O      o
G             u
S                    d      s
p
a
w
n

Busy they move

As bees

All around me

In their smarty pants

Knowing something I don't

Window panes stacked high

as cakes

are inedible

Whilst cigarettes and conversation

Waft in from the street below

Behind buildings holding money and brains,

Hides a horizon

I think

My tooth aches

With guilt for everything I have not done

Another illustrated letter written to janit http://www.sinktherock.org/2008/mar/2/wall

- this time about her choice of pastime