girl_jane condensation 020913
say more! !

say more! this is a good blathe
girl_jane I think I spelled that wrong...I don't know. My brain is sleeping... 020913
say more! no, it was the correct spelling.

i wanted for you to expand upon the blathe, though. it had an interesting start. like farmfishie would say, "put some cheese in this quesadilla."

girl_jane who are you? 020913
eep! eep! 020913
girl_jane But that was all I had to say... 020913
eep! it_just_occurred_to_me that you didn't mean for it to be poetic.
i wish you had.
eep! it_just_occurred_to_me that you hadn't meant for it to be poetic.
i wish you had.

there. goddamn bloody perfectionism
girl_jane one word can be poetic...and meant 020913
eep! of course one word can be poetic.

girl_jane yes 020913
squint this page needs something worth the title. 020914
sabbie lick
the sweat
off the
bulbous side

run your tounge
around its middle





that drinking
is only
half the fun
squint dammit!
i wrote this poem for this page right after my last post, but blather fucked up and i couldnt do anything here. :( and now i dont have the poem. but i emailed it to *someone* so maybe they could send it back to me or post it for me?

squint We lied to the night
with a little less than still air.
we sat,
sweating wine glasses
and drying ourselves off
with the smooth of the
milkbowl moon.
enamored symphonies of the
bitten horizon played
so lush rhetoric
where gnarled waves stabbed at the skyline,
so rabidly picturesque.
we leaned forward
tilted heavy with
hypnotic visions of gliding lips
before I said goodbye
and my feet lowered to the floor
leaving true footsteps
beneath the hovering noctambulism
of my journeys
and I wake
without opening my eyes
to miss the scent of honey
of kisses
to miss the scent of a dream
of crimson and wine.
squint thanks, me. or rather, you. 020915
girl_jane Franky tired...not just sleepy...*le sigh* says:
i hate those days that you just feel like shit for no particular reason

and you just are on the verge of tears all day

but you know you have nothing to cry about

so you don't let yourself
because if you did it'd be dumb

because it's not good to cry over nothing
ferret sweating wine glasses i am. just returned from a brisk jog did i. but before jog, went for a swim i did! and swam in the wide blue ocean did i. and now sweating, not bullets, but wine glasses i am! 030524
girl_jane I always find myself coming back to this page when I feel the way I've felt lately.

Right now I think the feel of a wine glass in my hand would be rather pleasing-cold-delicate-wet-slipping out of my hand...

I'm such a clutz.

Now there's red wine spilled over broken glass; I'll lick it off the floor.
what's it to you?
who go