i dreamed my uterus began to hemmorhage while misha and i were hiking through this big golden field. it happened so quickly. i went from being mildly embarassed about the gush of blood from between my legs to totally lightheaded and dizzy and fainting in an instant. i fell first to my knees, then laid quietly down on my side and started to silently weep. misha was clutching my hand, both our fists bloody, calling out for help into his cell phone, but i was dying. i closed my eyes. it got dark.

then i dreamed i snuck into my neighbour's basement and found a small airplane that would fit one person. i hauled it outside and up onto the roof and started it up, not really believing i was going to do this. i climbed in with the engine revving. it was present day, it was snowing, i wanted to fly through the night snow and look at xmas lights on people's houses. i got a few blocks and became afraid of how high, and alone, i was. i turned the plane back and was overcome with exhaustion much like i have been in the last week and started to fall asleep at the wheel. i woke up after i had crashed the little plane right outside the neighbour's door. they started to come out, and i had to struggle and stumble up out of the plane quickly so that they wouldn't see me in it, and i wouldn't be held accountable for all the damage i did. i tried to struggle into the house but misha had filled the entire outdoor walkway and front hall with all manner of bright xmas decorations and lights and music and i was tripping on cords and neon santas. i finally stumbled through and into the living room and fell onto the couch to sleep, while i heard the neighbour shout about the plane. i felt ok, though, like i knew i'd gotten away with it.

i brought a thermos in my backpack. vodka in creamy hot tea is a drink most wintery. sandwiches in brown paper. you'd laid a worn out mexican-style blanket on the bench that would have been wet if it hadn't been twenty below. we ate and drank quietly, hardly speaking. the sun set on our icy lake picnic, and we dusted off half-frozen crumbs from our sleek parkas and muffle-pat our gloves clean. trees stripped bare revealed inky murders, noisy in the dusk cold. i wondered, but before i was done the thought, our lips melted glossy frost and you tasted like cold metal. the lousy noisy crow was too distracting. i felt my breath heavy with peanut butter and wished i'd brought more vodka tea.

in that short time, your bike lock froze solid to the lamp post so i walked you to the bus stop. you told me off-colour jokes and i saw your handsome face change in the sulphur-tint street lights. i imagined your scarf tied in blunt yarny knots around my wrists or even my breasts. i conjured a dark warm bedroom. i imagined a flannel sheet printed with dusty pink roses and pale green leaves. i felt your bare torso against my back, my hair loose around my shoulders and me languidly moving, lost in the heat between us.

your boots stamped off mud and slush as the bus pulled in, its air brakes groaning. as the door accordian was tapped open by an uninterested driver, you met my eyes with a gaze i couldn't read. "i'm walking, so..." your black glove slid into my blue one and squeezed and i watched our breaths mingle in the early night air. "it was nice," you said back, apologetically. crows landed in the parking lot behind us, quiet now, and the bus driver tapped the air brakes once, impatiently.

"sorry about all that," i shrugged, casting my eyes in the direction of your trapped bicycle, more drunk maybe than i realized.

looking up at the dark sky, "this can't last," you smiled kindly. then meeting my gaze again: "there will be a thaw soon enough."

i dreamed that i was at a "medieval sugar festival"(?) with misha, and i had constructed a very large scale model of a castle using nothing but hardened sugar. it was taller than me and wider than my living room and very detailed. i was very proud of it. after it was finished and on display, misha and i were put on "security detail" and had to walk thorugh the grounds and the building the fest was being held on/in. we split up for a bit and when i returned to admire my sugar castle again, i found misha had, with the help of several other people, pushed it outdoors into the rain and puddles, and it was slowly melting away into nothingness. i got very upset and demanded to know why he'd permitted people to do that to my creation. his answer was that a couple of tons of new sugar had just been delivered and they were making way for the building of an actual life-size replica of a medieval castle that would put mine to shame. i was furious and offended and left in a huff.

i was patroling the playground then and found a very tall (i'm talking, seven feet) teenaged boy picking on younger children there. i tried to kick him off the playground using the threat of finding his parents and telling them, but he kept ignoring me and continuing to push down and hurt other smaller kids. as he climbed up onto a set of monkey bars i grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him down hard. this had the consequence of him smacking his head on the metal bars, knocking him unconcious. as i realized what i'd done i felt someone tap me on the shoulder and turned around to find myself staring into the stomach of a giantess. she stood around ten feet high and had a miserable chunky manly face and dry straw-like hair. i realized in a moment that she had to have been his mother and she didn't look too happy about the fact that i'd K.O.'ed him. i tried to explain what had happened and why i'd done what i did, but she wasn't having any of it and pulled her arm back in preparation for socking me. i warned her to back off and that i would call the police if i had to. she wouldn't listen and swung at me. i dodged and kicked at her tree-trunk legs and she stumbled back. i took the opportunity to swing her still-unconcious son over my shoulder and made a dash towards the main building of the festival to recruit help or find a phone. she followed me, though, and caught up. she grabbed my shoulder and i turned around and hit her square in the stomach, once, twice, three times, all while trying to balance the teenager too. she kept coming but was slowed up some. i finally picked up a long piece of wood and told her to back off or i'd hit her with it. she kept coming, kept coming, and so i finally smacked her hard across the face with the wood. that knocked her off her feet and she tumbled down into an "off limits" area where pallets and metal machinary were being stored. i lost sight of her behind some piles of junk and sat down to check to see if the boy was bleeding from his head or anything. just as i laid him down to check him out, she re-appeared, weilding some kind of crazy bladed piece of gardening equipment and shrieking at the top of her lungs, coming straight at me. i stood up, slinging the boy back over my shoulder, and picked up my own piece of metal, though i can't remember exactly what it was. before she even got within striking distance i through the hunk of iron straight at her and it hit her in the head and she was down and out.

i walked over to where she was laying, grabbed her by the collar, and started to drag her and carry the boy out to the road. i hailed a cab and as she started to come to i tossed both of them into the back seat. before she was really with it, i fumbled around into her coat pocket and found her wallet. from it, i removed her ID and put it in my pocket.

"now i know your name and where you live. be thankful i didn't call the cops," i said.

she was pissed but knew she couldn't do anything against me and just stared straight ahead, pulling her giant son in towards her and grimacing. i slammed the taxi door shut and went back to watch my castle melt away completely in the rain.

a full night of totally weird, vivid dreams? is it the full moon?

in them misha was cruel to me, in a very smug and self-satisfied way, as though it didn't matter to him any longer how i felt or thought of him. and he said something so very vile and awful that i resorted to physical violence and tried to beat him up, only of course my blows were weak and ineffectual and he just laughed at me more, in disdain/disgust at my patheticness.

then i was sitting somewhere, a vacant lot, with a wire fence at my back and a big mutt-like dog in my lap and it was talking to me with its mind. and another dog came by, a large black one, and i noticed it was walking funny, walking on the first joint on its front legs, kind of like a gorilla would, and the dog in my lap looked up at me sadly and shook its head saying, "isn't it terrible? i've known him all my life and he's just recently become a complete nutter."

when i got home from this strange exchange i found that one of my neighbours had turned the parking lot outside all our units into a large, fancy outdoor dining space. she had all three of her kids working at laying down cloth serviettes and fine silverware. i said, "what's going on? what are you doing?" she said, "it's a community fundraiser. dinner is $40 a plate. will you join us?" "what are you serving?" "tubes," she said, "more and more tubes." and i had a dream flashback to the vacant lot where i'd been sitting with the dogs and remembered seeing thousands of discarded rubber tubes of varying lengths laying in the grass. the thought of eating them was wholly unappetizing and so i declined. the look she gave me was withering and i realized that my gastronomic snobbery was getting me nowhere with my neighbours.

i conjure morning:
dark sky, slatted breath, distant
highways calling you.
your torn hand catches
smoke wisping up from my eyes:
product of dream fires.
blanket-scented love
pressed deep into downy soil.
rainy eyelashes
tremble as blossoms
tremble in ocean's winter:
crags, sponge moss, you, me.

it's not that you can't have me...it's that you don't get me.

listen.
i laid bare petals in packages
secretly delivered by motorcade.
and i shivered as you crawled through
bodybombs
and witmissles (whet whistles)
testing your mettle and disregarding mine.
hey, look, now.
shameless and guilty
i gifted you alone in the trees.
shattered sunlight fallen on the water
with pieces of me in your mouth
i watched you struggle
and wondered at my own fight.
well, come on. you know that
i dug deep to pull all that out:
rabbits from silk hats and flowers from dust
but the further i open
it seems the harder you shut.
so. enh, and shrug.
i drift lazily away back from where i came
something drowned, that you dreamed.
not the wet creature
you found muddy and fearsome
on the shore.
in your lap,
by the shore.

last night me and simon pegg were crushing out on each other, and when he saw i'd gotten an email from ivan reitman asking me out on a date, he got super jealous and started to sulk. he was inconsolable, believing that i was going to "run off with that rich old twat, just because he said he might introduce you to dan aykroyd".

oh simon. i fancy you much more than reitman...though the aykroyd thing...well. anyway. don't worry, i won't leave you, baby.

i was having a HUGE house party in an unfamilliar house. it was completely pitch black. i kept going around turning on lamps and they had no "glow". i mean they would turn on but only the bulb would light up, it wouldn't shed light on anything around it, so everything stayed dark anyway. i found a flashlight finally and was using it to try to get around. the place was packed but i couldn't see who was who or what was going on. the music was loud, conversation was loud, everyone was having fun and dancing, but i was feeling slightly distressed.

suddenly as i was shining my flashlight around i managed to light up an old lover's face as he came in the door. "YOU CAME!" i shouted as i dashed into his arms. he was laughing and i loved his big brown eyes looking at me and strong arms holding me. "you're still in love with me, aren't you," he said, grinning. "yes yes yes," i replied, kissing him all over his face and neck, "i am; i never stopped; i missed you."

"let's go somewhere private," he said, suggestively. i brought him upstairs towards my bedroom. when i opened the door, misha was there, just getting up to get dressed and go to work. he took one look at us and said, "oh, he's back, is he?" i could not contain my joy and said, "isn't it wonderful?!" misha seemed nonplussed, but not upset either. he just pulled on his uniform and left the two of us alone.

i pushed him down on the bed and quickly stripped him of all clothes. "can i go down on you?" i asked. he was laying with his hands behind his head and smirking, "duh."

when it was over and i laid back and he was satisfied, i said, "now how about a little reciprocation, baby?"

i remember the music was pumping downstairs and people were laughing and talking and his face went sour in the dim orange lamplight.

"are you kidding me?" he asked, incredulously, "gross."

i woke up pissed.

i dreamed it was november and i was in the grey misty woods alone, looking for a christmas tree. i didn't need a saw because for some reason the trees had all been cut in the summer and then buried in mulch and moss to overwinter. it made it very hard to find the perfect tree because you had to kind of kick the dirt and wood chips off the trunk and then pull, pull, pull so hard to unearth it completely and then if it wasn't right you had to re-bury it. at some point i became aware of the fact that it was nearly dark and starting to rain and a entire tourist bus had unloaded and everyone was running through the woods trying to find the best tree before anyone else. i gave up, found a giant nurse log laying on the forest floor, and laid behind it away from the crowd, thinking in the morning i would awake and try again.

i had a dream that i was trying to return a kid i didn't know to his school. i'd encountered him walking around looking lost on our street. i drove him back where he belonged and was looking for someone in charge to make sure they knew what happened.

it was an art school and i started to talk to some of the students there. i told them i dropped out of art school and one of the kids scoffed at me asking why i thought i was so special, and telling me how privileged i was to drop out when other kids couldn't even get to art school in the first place.

i started to try to defend myself by saying that i had fallen into a deep depression and it was probably the hardest year of my life.

the kid asked me to list everything that had gone wrong and that i thought had contributed to the depression and with every thing i listed (three loved ones dying in less than a year, my parents splitting up, drug use, childhood traumas coming to the forefront, my psychiatrist putting me on several new, different anti-depressants, my first love mistreating me and using me post-break-up) he would spit on the floor and scoff at me. i started to feel really angry and grabbed this kid (he couldn't have been more than 17) and said, "hey, man, seriously...have YOU ever been depressed?!"

and he kind of nodded and i said, "great, then. why don't you tell me all about it so that i can tear you down and let you know why it was a ridiculous way for you to feel." he grinned at me and i woke up.

the fate-bird of our ruin

i am no thief.
i do not abide thieves.
i will not house
covetous feelings
in my heart
for longer
than it takes
to have your mouth
on mine.

i steal nothing.
i will not tolerate theft.
i cannot touch one single patch
of warm, faithful skin
unless you bare it
willing and freely
to the zing
of my finger.

i do not want.
desire leads to suffering.
i think nothing of that heat
in your eyes
until it's clamped
round my thighs
and i've fallen prey to
the fate-bird
of our ruin.

i had this bizarre dream this morning that involved a lot of magic and weirdness. i watched a tiny elderly japanese woman walk on water in little wooden shoes. she was trying to scoop something up out of the ocean. she came back to shore and kind of collapsed. i lifted her up into my lap and she morphed into this guy from highschool, richard hamilton, that i hadn't thought of in years. because his name was right before mine on most attendance lists his locker would always be right next to mine. he was shy and we rarely spoke even though we were in school together for six years. i said, "richard! my god! what are you doing?" and he said, "what? nothing." and i said, "yes, you were! you were a little japanese lady and you walked on water!" and he said, "no i wasn't." it was so strange! then, at one point, i was in a fancy hotel, wandering around from lobby to restaurant to some ballroom party thing. eli was holding on to me from behind and we were running together and somehow defying gravity so that it was almost like we were running on the moon. i was laughing, he was laughing, we were happy. which is weird because i don't feel happy when i think about him during my waking hours. in fact just the oppposite. the end of the dream involved letting [info]sabyorange drive me around in my car because i was too drunk to do it myself, and she crashed into this big pallet of red bricks and then she and everyone else disappeared and i was drunk and lost in some strange city, and my phone's batteries were dead, so i couldn't call for help.

every june, i howl at the moon
this summer i won't sleep a whit
i'm gonna stay up drinkin
constantly thinkin
'bout how you and i can't quit it.

it'll be like a tom waits song
you know, wet nickles in the gutter
an old hooker in nice shoes
nightingale blues
dirty kisses through wooden shutters.

i said, no, i ain't goin to bed, son
this summer i won't sleep a whit
i'm gonna stay up drinkin
watch both our ships sinkin
since neither of us seem to give a shit.

i don't like asking questions no more
most answers leave me gutted right now
so just say you want me
i'm drunk so you got me
i'm up drinkin and alone anyhow.

but if you're goin to do it, baby
just do it here on my floor
y'can't get here too soon
i was drunk at noon
and i been leavin the chain off the door.

it's a bad habit to get into
they said, "scrapbook, or collect stamps,"
i laughed, "them thrills and chills
don't pay my bills,
i got more bang from my buck as a tramp."

i'm drinkin alone all this summer
i won't sleep a wink if you do
you're on my mind
but you ain't mine
and so i got to poison these blues.

i wanted to take a moment to tell you about the bizarre celebrity dreams i've had the last two nights. this morning after i got up to check on the slumber party i fell back to sleep around 4am and dreamt that i was hanging out with paris and nicky hilton. it happened quite accidentally and they were both just as awful as i imagined them to be. i left in a huff after only a short while but their parents tried to stop me outside whatever the venue was (combo restaurant/dance club, i guess?). they said they were sorry i got the brunt of their daughters' bad moods and wanted to invite me to their home so i could see that they were actually a normal, nice family. i shrugged and said sure and they drove me in a fancy SUV to their mansion. they led me up several very opulant staircases to an attic-type room where there were several personal computers. then the senior hiltons shocked the hell out of me by settling into beanbag chairs and lighting up a couple of joints. we sat around smoking and i remember saying, 'so, why do you think your kids turned out so shitty? you two seem like fairly cool parents, so i don't get it."

then, two nights ago, i dreamed that i wrote an award-winning play about being queer and homeless. people were starting to recognize me in the street and a movie executive contacted me saying they wanted me to adopt the play for the silver screen and they wanted jim carrey to play the lead. they sent him to come stay in vancouver and research the role by visiting the downtown east side and i was assigned to be his tour guide. this part of the dream seemed to go on and on - we were driving around in his fancy car (yeah, i know - doensn't sound like a very good way to research being destitute on the streets of vancouver, does it?), he was buying me dinner, we were getting to know each other, and finally he told me he was now in love with me and he wanted to know if i would consider being his "one and only special girl". i said that i didn't think that was possible at all, but inwardly i was totally flattered and crushing out on him. he then started doing TERRIBLE things while we were out together, in a petulant rage. he was throwing cups of hot coffee at street people and shouting down the tourists and just generally being a complete asshole. i was trying to figure a way to give him what-for without jeopardizing my lucrative movie contract but screwed up and screamed at him using no tact whatsoever to let me out of his "pig-mobile" and then i cried the whole way home on the skytrain knowing that i wasn't going to be able to make us rich enough to save misha from his soul-sucking life as a bus driver after all.

it started out that the upstairs of our house was overrun with squirrels. i couldn't tell if they were tame or not, so i was loathe to let the kids pet them, even though the squirrels didn't seem to be the least bit frightened of us. they were eating the cat kibble and running across our beds and stuff. the kids were delighted and invited all the neighourhood kids in to play. one of the neighbour DADS, who i've always kind of thought of as hot, also came in, and he just invited himself into our bedroom. misha was just getting up and was standing by one of the windows talking to some other adult who was outside, looking up. when hot neighbour dad came into our room i realized misha was standing there buck naked and said, "uh, honey.....everyone can see your winky." hot neighbour dad was sitting on the end of our bed and he was looking rather lasciviously at misha! he even said something about how misha's penis was quite impressive and didn't need to be hidden away on his account. i stood there gaping as hot neighbour daddy started to take off his own clothes and he and misha were making some serious sexy eye contact! when hot neighbour daddy got totally naked i realised he was misha's body twin! i started to feel pretty freaking lucky at that point, when suddenly squirrels came bounding into the room, followed closely by a hoarde of neighbourhood boys! misha and neighbour daddy were totally oblivious and starting to make-out but i felt extreme anxiety and turned to the door to make sure the kids didn't see what was happening. i was too late for one of the older boys, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene even though i was forcibly using my hand to steer his chin and my body to push him out of the doorway. "what...what are they doing in there?" he said as i shut the door behind me, feeling both still kind of turned on, and kind of aghast, and kind of peeved that i was being left out because i had to make sure these kids saw nothing untoward happening between their dad and my husband. "they're...they're...they're trapping squirrels," i said, nonchalantly. "now who wants some lemonade?"

it started off with me in a restaurant having brunch with cam and hamish (no sign of lisa anywhere). it was sunny and everyone was in a fabulous mood. after we ate hamish pulled me up out of my seat and we started to dance to the song "salt peanuts" by dizzy gillespie, which the restaurant was blasting. people were laughing and clapping.

everyone came back to my downtown apartment and we played board games and sat out on the balconey and smoked cigarettes and drank coffee and shouted compliments at people who were walking by. we were all laughing, the mood was very cheerful.

after a while everyone decided they had to get home and i was left alone to clean up. i started to do the dishes when there was a knock my door. i opened it up and there was dennis hopper, and an 18 year old boy he said was his son. i said, "hey dennis hopper, how's it goin?" and he said, "i'm your new neighbour and i heard a party going on so i came to check it out." and i said, "oh, but everyone went home, i'm just cleaning up." he said, "let me give you a hand then. i could smell the mess from next door." i said, "smell the mess? what?" he said, "yeah, your sink smells like t.v. dinners."

i was totally baffled as to how he could smell my sink through the walls but then i followed him into my kitchen and he was right. the sink smelled like t.v. dinners. he showed me a special way to clean it with candle wax and unspun wool. it was good as new. his 18 year old son wandered the living room conspicuously putting my things in his pockets. i decided to not say anything since it was worth losing some bric-a-brac to have dennis hopper in my house cleaning my sink.

innocent neck kiss breath
deep beat miss heart
nervous hand cling bit lip
shy contact eyes
step once closer shampoo scent
tender gaze linger
finger downfall slipping petals
hot touch surprise

i had this awful dream that i was staying in an unfamilliar house with my two kids, and it was late at night and we'd just got in from some function or another, and i was sitting at the kitchen table telling the kids what they needed to do to get ready for bed, when through the frosted glass of the door's window i saw a very large man's sillhouette appear. i wasn't expecting anyone and so i panicked when he started to jiggle the door handle. within a few seconds he had the lock popped and was coming towards me. i realized that i couldn't freak out or the kids would freak out so i just stood up really quickly and and said, "hi there handsome," and he grabbed me by the upper-arms and i was thinking, i should act like he's by boyfriend and get him to take me into the bedroom so the kids won't see me being raped, and he was saying nothing, just trying to wrestle me down to the ground and the kids were standing there staring at us and then something in me snapped. i became unfrozen and jerked my arms out of his grasp. i made my hands into fists and started clubbing him in the face as hard as i could. i yelled at the kids, "run, run to the neighbours, run! tell them mommy's in trouble, just go!" and they ran out the door as the man started to try to hit me back. i grabbed one of his wrists and let his other hand hit me in the face. even though it hurt and i felt temporarily blinded i managed to wrangle his arm behind his back and he bent over and shouted in pain. i was behind him now and forced my knee up hard into his kidney. this made him collapse down onto his knees and i fell with him and pinned him under me. any time he tried to move or wriggle i forced his arm up into his back further and he'd shriek in pain. and i just remember saying, "you fucking idiot. did you really think i'd let you rape me twice? did you really think i'd let you do that in front of my kids?" and he was crying incoherently.

someone please stand up, shine a light on y'self, out here in this fog
someone please stand up, and show me the way, show me the way to you.
i read in a book that you were going to come out to find me
i read in a book that i was going to be saved
and i'm ready, i wanna know if you know that i'm ready

if you think i don't have mixed emotions, well, you're wrong
i lived down here, in muck and tree roots, since well before you were born
but i see you out there, out there in the fog, in the dark
swinging a torch, and calling
call me out now
call me out now
i don't wanna be lost no more.

someone please stand up, shine that torch in the sky, illuminate this dark
someone please stand up, hold your hand out to me, pull me up, pull me up
i had a dream that someone was crying thinly, out in the night
i had a dream that i had to go find her
and was i shocked, was i ever, when i found she was crying for me

i told you once that i was okay, oh why, why did you believe me
i knew my place was here with you, long before i gave up hope and pleasure
i hang back and watch you climbing trees out there in the sun, in leaves
swinging your hammock strings, and humming
hum a bit louder now
hum a bit louder now
i don't wanna be quiet no more.

i always wanted to jump INTO, not OUT OF, a giant cake

a long time ago, do you remember?
i was your best birthday present.
colourfully wrapped in apprehension,
topped with a big bow knotted from desire.
did that really happen?
it seems so far away now.
i never knew if what you said was true.
i wish i could ask you now
what you'd like for your next birthday.
is it still me?

words don't express my meaning

i had a dream last night that we were in an old, empty house together, exploring. it was unnervingly quiet, but when we spoke it didn't echo. instead our words were muffled by the peeling wallpaper, by the exposed fibre glass insulation, by the ancient breezes our movements made, stirring dust. our words would leave our mouths but drop nearly instantly to the floor. you took to speaking very close to my ear so that your meaning would not be lost to the filmy light straining through the dirty windows. this light would make rectangular patches of the hardwood floors glow, but did not reflect, did not expand, and so most of the house remained in shadow, even though it was mid-day.

i wandered up the main staircase to the second floor while i listened to you rattling around in the back of the house, maybe in the kitchen. were you, was i planning on buying the place? why were we here? i couldn't remember. the stairs were silent, the floorboards did not creak. i felt grains under my hand as i slid my palm up the warm wooden bannister and looked back to see i'd left a long thick gleaming trail in the dust. all the doors on the second floor were closed and the hallway was dark. still, i was not afraid.

i rounded a corner and you surprised me by appearing at the other end of the corridor. "secret stairs from the kitchen!" you explained, your eyes glittering in conspiracy. "how fun is that?" i grinned. "come with," you urged me, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards a narrow door that was nearly invisible in the wall.

we pulled it open. it was a landing, with the stairs that headed down to the kitchen on our right and stairs that led up to places unknown on the left. you pulled me left, behind you. it was narrow, so narrow my hips were making whispering noises against the walls as we took step after step. i noticed your shoes, your jeans, your belt, your ass. my body tensed up suddenly, in a thrilling way.

at the top there was another door but it was locked. you pulled a skeleton key from your pocket and slipped it into the keyhole. in a metallic rattling moment, the door swung open and i followed you in.

the attic was clean and bare, free of the dust that plagued the rest of the old house. against the wall under the circle-shaped window that looked out over the front yard was a large old cot made up with bohemian bedding, none of it matching. you turned and looked at me, breathless. i was not sure i understood. "what..." i said, about to put a voice to my questions. you stopped me with an unexpected kiss that was sudden and hurt my lips against my teeth...for a second.

but how could i stay uncertain in your embrace? how could i say no? if you're ready, i am. it's always been that way.

we laid on the bed. i was naked and goosebumps rose on my flesh. you gently covered me with a lightly scented flannel blanket, fresh soapsmell rising from the air beneath. afternoon was fading with every light kiss you placed on the tendons on my neck, on my collar bone. with every warm palm and each nervous, shuddering breath. i like the way the light looks in here, at this time, with the grey day fading to blue evening. i took what you gave; you took me.

molly, i dreamed about you last night. somehow we got our kids sitters and went together to see a documentary about miro's life, that was airing at this wine-making college. the movie talked a lot about his early life, before he met you, and showed how he had adopted this little chocolate point siamese cat with one eye. i got really excited at that point and said, "molly, molly, that was OUR cat! that was bagheera!" and you patted my hand and said, "yes, i know. the cat got lost during one of miro's moves and you guys found him and took him in. i've know it all along." and i was just stunned that we'd had this connection pre-LJ, however loose it was.

then the movie was over and we were leaving and you were giving me a ride in your car. it was parked next to this hotrod and the hotrod was parked so close that i couldn't open the passenger side door. a guy got into it and sped off, peeling his tires really obnoxiously. he then tore around the parking lot a couple times doing donuts and leaving skid marks. finally he pulled up to where we were again and got out. "i'm thinking i might buy this car but i think the guy selling it is overcharging. what do you think?" he asked us. you just shook your head and said, "i think you're a major fucking douchebag, is what i think." i started laughing so hard i woke myself up.

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

William Butler Yeats

how this will end

it bothers me to think that the slippery, delicate morsels of lovewords that fell so easily from your lips to my ears can disintegrate and vanish so utterly.

i can lay awake for hours in the stuffy bedroom, the shades all drawn against the city, and sirens howling outside, and night heaving against the window panes. i can remember how carefully crafted every breath you laced with your sweet nothings seemed.

where did they go, i wonder. were they so insubstantial that once you stopped speaking they simply ceased to exist? or are they somewhere else, in someone else's ear, heating their cheeks and awakening their heartrate? unfaithful declarations! i feel betrayed.

are they recycled, do they reincarnate, have you trapped them in your little dark heart and pressed them down from coal to diamonds? do they glitter, sharp angles, inside you? did they escape out the door the moment you turned your back and become breezes, or raindrops, or a single finch on a winter branch, looking in on me while i sleep?

i like to think they are hiding in corners and lurking in doorways. or maybe they are trapped in my hair. or on a cross-canadian journey, lodged in smoky inns. or, like me, they could be watching from the shadows, and waiting for the perfect moment to re-appear.

"hee hee. 'get her!' that was your whole plan, huh? 'get her.' very scientific."

i had an orgy with the cast of ghostbusters circa 1984 last night.

bill murray is a bit of a cold fish but dan aykroyd is packing! harold ramis was bashful but totally opened up after watching for a little while. ernie hudson just couldn't believe his luck!

i write this poem because
i dream tender dreams:
warm water and you in my arms, sleeping
as we drift
my hair in dark tendrils around our shoulders
the sound of gentle falls
somewhere else,
somewhere distant.
beneath my dangling legs
as i silently paddle us to shore
i see no fish or waterweed
but toys lost to the sandy sea floor and games abandoned,
things you once loved.
here you are in my arms, face placid
and i wonder what you would say
if you knew i dream these dreams
if you knew i write these poems
for you.