What if I had pink hair, I wonder. Like a fairy godmother, an ethereal vision of gentle disposition, peony petal soft, a harlequin romance heroine in pastel. But maybe (probably) like a frizzy and frazzled manic pixie dream girl snapping over-chewed bubble gum between snarled teeth. Maybe on a different girl, with smaller hips and … Continue reading April 19 : Pink Hair
I. Wake up early-- run late. Who is the queen of your hive? If not you, then who? II. Pollinate the world. Grow wildflowers between rocks. Make honey at home. III. Stinger like harsh words. You cannot undo the hurt. It will hurt you, too.
It's Tuesday. A broken record on repeat-- spinning wildly skipping the same cracks in the pavement under our tired feet. Every Tuesday the same boring beige-- where's the variation? So we add a shake of hot sauce, the spice of life we so desperately crave. Pick a different breakfast or a different street but still … Continue reading April 17 : Mystery Spot
Young beauty waltzes in the door just past dawn, bronze skin buffed to shining, framed by black-brown hair-- a yard of silk down her back. Slim hands slide a bill across the counter and she tells me "Keep the change." A gum-pink tongue dances behind her teeth, the pointed pearls so perfect and bright. My … Continue reading April 16: Chagrin
Day like faded scars, nine years gone like yesterday, I remember you.
Typewriter Moon 