the november fall

IMG_9345
coloured leaves fall for fall
from trees
above the streets
i weave a little life between.
the wind is cool against my flushed and rosy cheeks.
i’m all wrapped up in scarves and sweaters. i don’t mind it’s dark at 5pm. i don’t mind the clouds or rain or cold.
i don’t mind being something to you.
it all falls for fall,
and i fall in vivid colours too.

skimming rocks

our lives are made of ripples.
someone drops a stone.
we watch the lines expand,
grow,
burn and flow,
until the edges
meet the shore
and back it goes
once more.

our lives are made of ripples.
the stories become longer
the details smear and smudge
but the feeling
[the effect]
stains the very edges
of the hearts
we try our
hardest
to protect.

our lives are made of ripples.
they move as far as the lake of our love allows
they change
when they ebb
against logs
and rocks
and lily pads
or when ducks go paddling by
or when dark clouds drop raindrops from this great humungous sky
and there reflected in us,
[the thing we never see]
we miss it, we wish.
and i wonder
maybe if i was in the sky
and instead the lake was looking
at me.

you remember it, that day
and those ripples that you made?
as the moon rose
and looked so long,
stretched, then not
and bobbing upon a mercury lagoon.
it was all so full of you
your wish to see it there
upon the glassy, rippling water
your wish to feel it there
and share
your very favourite thing
with me.

yours

curve your spirit to mine and find the straight and wayward lines to travel by. cross your heart [don’t hope to die].
be still
be light
let’s take our time.

pourquoi?

it is the nuances of the french, that has really made me fall in love.

kisses on both cheeks, either side. full love. women, women, men, men, men, women.

“pardon.”

the way they tear their bread, it’s poetry between their fingers and thumbs, momentum and reason building to the taste. a passionate portrayal of life lived for pleasure and love and
sa
tis
fac
tion
!

how they watched with intent as I tasted the cheese they fed me on the bread they tore with love: “now drink the wine! mix it together!”

“so…”

i loved it. i did, i did. i went to heaven for a second, each time, with rushes on my skin of pure exaltation!

i found it in the way his head turned when he heard the scratching wheels of a skateboard in the distance.

the way she taught me to roll my r, in the back of my throat, as we walked through the streets late at night.

“arrrrrête! la rrrrue!”

“yes! that’s it!”

it’s the singing sounds of “bonjour!” and “merci beaucoup!” the challenge of the language, and their patience with me.

but, really, it’s all the people that i met, now a superbly important part of my story.

i am
head
over
heels
obsessed,
addicted
and
unimaginably in love with france.

and i’ll tell you this a million times more! oh what a love affair we’ll have!

11.11

all i want to do is write about love. write the movie of my life. live until i can’t breathe because i can’t stop telling you about all the amazing little things that happened to me, today. until i’m blue in the face.

i want you to tell me i’m kicking ass, breaking records, living way beyond your expectations of me. and you love it. and you love me. and you can’t imagine life without loving me forever.

you – my imagination, the unconscious reassurance that i don’t actually need, but crave for, unbelievably so – the affirmation and the recognition and the appreciation of a life lived oh so well, it hurts. it hurts so much.

let my heart ache; my eyes throb; my ears ring; my mouth water; my nostrils burn; and my fingertips swell. with tiredness. pure exhaustion. life lived to the absolute extreme. giving so much. expecting nothing but love. because, really, that’s all there is. that’s all there should be.

all i want to do is write about the loves of my life. the moments that leave my eyes stinging and my skin tingling and my mouth widening with a smile and a thought of who can i tell, right now in this moment?  

who will appreciate the most insignificant, the most irrelevant, the most ridiculous story? the story that i desperately want to share.

magical. serene. all encompassing, overwhelming and uncontrollable.

i want to write about love, for as long as i live.