Let’s leave the beaver-cheek-causing frustration that is work, aside. Just thinking about how badly I want to make it makes me sympathise with reality show contestants and that, dear readers, makes me want to lash myself 15th century style.

So, consider me hobbled until one of the 3 options I currently have pays out. And I mean pays, as in cash money, preferrably in monthly installments so that I can get an iPad*** and be featured on it, eventually.

1. Word of the day: esurient – The Sage: 1. devouring or craving food in great quantities

2. Insight of the day: Suppressing frustration and want makes Feylian a rabid little ferret.

3. State of the pool: furiously churning and rebelliously sloshing against the shrinking walls of the pool

4. Joys of the day: Rives (I skipped the TED intro, you should know it by now), 2 meetings which went goddam brilliantly**, dinner with El the Legend and our Taye Diggs look alike neighbour****.

5. Awesomest lines: Kite by Rives

And so I made for you a kite, enormous,
out of coat hangers, brown paper bags
and the masking tape from that drawer in your kitchen,
and I hung it in the hallway
where you couldn’t hardly miss it,
and I tagged that kite with my words,
I wrote:

Just so you know–

My weird mind wanders and my brave heart breaks.
I’ve nailed some milestones, but I’ve made mistakes,
Cuz I got more faults than a map of California earthquakes.

I am taking a nap beneath your covers.
Wake me if you like me.
Wake me if you want me
Wake me if you need another poem.

Your once and future lover
has made himself at home.

*Hungry is perhaps not the right word. Look at the word of the day. That’s me, baby.

**If it did otherwise I would’ve dragged its sorry asses to the corner of the room and hissed it into submission. Mama ain’t playin’ nice no more.

*** A legitimate wish and don’t you eyeroll at me or call me a fangirl. I am not. It is just bloody cool and I want one.

****I would like to point out that he is funny, articulate and smoking hot.If she doesn’t flirt I’ll be forced to stab her with the salad fork. Which we don’t have. The plastic handled cheap fork then. With hot sauce on it.

©2010 Feylian's World. All Rights Reserved.

cradle the nape of your neck in my hands slide my fingers in the thumbshapednooks behind your ears and kiss you

(while the rhythm of your pulse resonates in me)

Kiss you until you have no breath left in you and the air rushes back in with a swoosh

But since I can’t do that,

Instead,

I sedately scribble on you using the ocean swirls of your irises.

©2010 Feylian's World. All Rights Reserved.