I dreamt of being love. I dreamt that we were standing in each other. Your left hand fitted perfectly in the knuckle duster handle of my hips and your right encompassed my back,  your fingers crossed the meniscus of my skull and fused with my brain. My hands enclosed your spinal column, nerve filaments spliced and endlessly replicating. We shared ribs, a heart and lungs. We/I breathed love.

…This either means that I have a pretty graphically anatomic view of love or, that I am a narcissist par excellence >.<.

1. Word of the day: inexorable

2. **Insight of the day: Why is it that being soaked in the maybe of something is more delicious than the reality of it?

3. State of the pool: Still clarity with the odd ripple of reflection.

4. Random thought: Almost all compliments I receive have a modifier attached to it: “sexy bitch”, “dark angel” not to mention getting Poison dedicated to yours truly a few times to many >.<

5. Awesomest lines:

As much as you can

And if you can’t shape your life the way you want,
at least try as much as you can
not to degrade it
by too much contact with the world,
by too much activity and talk.

Try not to degrade it by dragging it along,
taking it around and exposing it so often
to the daily silliness
of social events and parties,
until it comes to seem a boring hanger-on.

Constantine P Cavafy

*Summertime -  I will always prefer the Billy Holiday version. There is something to be said for a fey soul like that singing a George Gershwin tune.

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