gazing, 1000

at long last

Originally uploaded by ladelentes.

it took very nearly twelve years, but at last i got to strip off in a nudist beach down in sussex, just like any other crazy english-woman, and precariously plunge my shivering self into the welcoming cold of the british sea.

the cat constantly close

my eyes have an inbuilt cat. it's black and fat and it moves fast and it's constantly there, zooming round the corner of my eye, when i change my point of view.

re-potted

one fig tree
one camellia
one gardenia
one strawberry plant
one heart

an ocean of breasts

rounded, big, heavy, perky, lolling, firm, poky, pink, pointy, false, shy, there.

waiting for...

the man who can't commit, so badly that he'd rather suffer than have fun
the man who is so self-centered that he wouldn't notice if you dropped your knickers on his nose
the man who is terminally childish and can't ever finish what he starts
the man who already has a family, but not the balls to do what's right for them, or you, or him
the man who isn't interesting enough but will do (for what?)
the man who insists so hard on changing you that he makes you feel insane
the man who will pass up the chance of a lifetime to have a mid-life crisis (blonde bimbo optional)
the man who treats you like crap and makes you more lonely when he's home
the man who will leave you stranded one day waiting for a ride home

...and to be honest there is a better chance of a bus coming along,
so that's what I will do.

unexpected

when crossing the roads of hackney look left, look right. watch out for cars... and mind the remote controlled bi-planes, specially if being run by white-haired old men with cheeky grins.

the golden girl

sways this way and that. or rotates like a roasting chicken. your call.

stills

what i dream(ed) of as a girl
scribbling a name on a piece of wood
smiling across the table to a handsome man
receiving a bunch of handpicked flowers
sharing a secret and giggling
a big fat belly in spring
beautiful arms to look at surreptitiously
catching the sun in one hand to stop the night from ending
butterflies in my stomach
africa, another world, anywhere
rainbows forming in the spray of the sprinklers
magic, not tricks

spam reading

it can be strong

a moment in time

outside my window a chandelier sparkles in the tentative sunlight. a feather floats in my line of vision, emigrating from a recently battered cushion. from time to time, a clicking sound marks the fall of yet another fruit from the plant that languishes, over-watered or under-fed, in the corner under the million CDs that won't come fly with me. the book of laughter and forgetting catches my eye. things i know how to do well, a special skill. the scent of mint and eucalyptus rises from my newly massaged shoulder, and closes my eyes, for just a while.