Older Selves

The first time we met, our seventy-year-old selves recognized each other and all that was left was the talking and the stumbling as our younger selves, these bodies here, were coaxed towards that older couple.

You don't tan but the sun makes the freckles come out across your back like stars. You are my pale night sky. You are my summer sun when the moon is awake. This bed, corner to corner, holds more opportunities for car crashes and kite-flying than our imaginations can possibly exploit except through years of delicious trial and error. You are Michaelangelo's right hand trembling before beginning and I am one hopeful wish daring myself to make the right moves.



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Wish Me Luck

I'm about to go and perform as the headliner at the Spillious Speak and Sing up on 28th and Main at the Cottage Bistro. I've never been a feature before so we'll see how it goes. Cross your fingers! : )