I think I titled a paper with that once.
With each blog I create, I hope to not write so much about the ghost of love, but it always comes out. It seeps through the cracks in the street down belowbelowbelow, somewhere I'm not sure of, but it sticks. It is always there.
but, honestly, what am I talking about? Oh yes....
This is the only poem I have ever written that I like,
"eating an orange
with you.
my dress
on
the
floor,
how did everything get so sticky?"
I could never compare to "I'm a better poet than you," but HEY I ain't no poet, I'm a writer.
Or right now I'm just a gal looking for her place in a tiny town filled with bigger worlds.
thank you, thank you. And happy new year all you lovely people. Hopefully picture will ensue !
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