sometimes my nails are really pretty
good solid white ends and cresent moons hand models dream about
and when my fingers are cold they contract and are thin making my rings almost too big.
a body.
my own.
a, vessel for my energy.
to experience to be inspried.
this morning over breakfast, i watched an old woman eat her toast without teeth. wrinkles had claimed her every feature, and she spoke silently to herself over coffee. i wondered where she'd been.
a life.
my own.
a chance for my energy
to shine to dance.
the snow jets down and i watch the light flicker on the floor. its a cold image, contrasting to the warmth of fire light on your face. Something new, something familiar. Happy five. Now I hide my chin, to kiss yours.
a love.
my own.
a chance for my energy
to love to recieve.