Monday, December 28, 2009

laying in the bath. love the languid pull of the water on my hair. floating, spreading, reaching in ways I never seem to. A turn to the side no better.
plume of snow flying off a branch in the aftermath. like steam from congested city streets in the summertime.
the other night reminding me of a month ago. half moon hanging inverted like a forgotten teacup in a dust clouded cupboard.