in this just-day i shaded my seaswept eyes and fell in love with chaos, mapping squares of sky through window panes and stumbling upon the world unexpectedly, the burst of a day in which i belong. you’ve entered and life is suddenly glaring, a bright thing of blossoming flames exploding in pinwheels and stars, and i am glitterstruck, skystrewn, weightless.

a pretty little piece, for those of us who crave a little suburban romance now and then. and i digress from beauty…

i am listening to josh radin (a must, for lovers of quiet-voiced singer song writers who implore you to hear their soul songs, feathery-light and good for the beauty-seekers), curled beneath my down comforter and safe, in the way one can only be when alone and about to venture into the nightly voyage beyond the confines of day, listening to a wind whirl and making me glad to be indoors. i am somewhat new to this idea of consistent “blogging” and seem to have some notion of wanting to choose my words painstakingly, even if they are a stream-of-consciousness (for to write is to think on a page, to sit at a computer and open a vein — thank you, red smith, how your words have impressed themselves upon me indelibly). how do we learn about each other? we wait for the person to tell us about themselves, more often than not, or we observe them from afar and draw our own conclusions.

so here i am, then; these are my descriptions of myself, the words i choose to identify the truest me/[i] when i am nothing more than lines on a page [and nothing less, these windstrewn days of winter freeze]. here is where i tell you everything about me that you need to know, for now at least. observe me from afar; consider my contours and my sharper edges, the way an “r” just might harden up a corner where an “s” would have slid sweetly on through.

i make no mistakes, no slipsofthetongue, mind you. i’m always playing for keeps.