Quintessensual you can blathe on any name,
amy, emma, megan, tess, alexander, quill, william, zephyrinius,
just touch it,
go ahead, blathe it and blathe it again, and again,
you can blathe on alone,
you can blathe on anything,
you can blathe on anybody,
on any name
ricmariem For me it sounded like a saint
Like Mother Teresa or any other
But a person has always two sides
Good or bad, sometimes it matters.
Q Last I Looked, it Was on my Bed Table

Sinsiter, that it is.
So far away it brings real tears.
There being not a crocodile in mind's eye.

Dexter, that it could be.
So near it seems it draws a grasp.
There are no straws on my bed.

Life there, and there, here, and everywhere,
will be a challenge.
Abstract, fictional, real and real, grab it.
Last I looked, it was on my bed table.

The electricity's ready to flow.
No glove will ever fit.
Don't forget the key.
It's cold out.

Copr. 1999
john blathering to e-tess hope i'm not intruding on newdreams it's not a new forest out there but an ancient and tangled one where familiar landmarks are welcome and a beautiful name comes back like an echo throuch the trees the presence of a friend e-tess a name which will do great things 000702
Tess john, thank-you for your compliments.
i will whistle a bit -Tess.
john try singing instead for if an e-tess whistles in a forest of and there's no one there to hear does she make a sound? did carl sandberg's proscription against capitals extend to punctuation marks?...??...i wish you were who i wish you were. 000705
monee of the d'urbervilles

Anna Livia Plurabelle tesseract 110815
unhinged our 4th (?) date

the rose on the car seat
as you opened the door
i was standing on the sidewalk
waiting for you
i still had butterflies to see you
still unsure if you liked, wanted me
even after several dates
all ending in epic making out
still unsure thanks to the assholes i'd spent most of my dating life with before you

and then there was

a single red rose

on my car seat

i had dolled myself up for you
and we went to tess for dinner
early by most peoples' standards
we were the only ones on the patio
for most of our meal

you reached over
touched my thigh
your hand creeping up my leg

we talked like new couples do
about things we liked and disliked in others

did we go home to our first night of sex?
i don't remember

but i do remember
that red rose
on the lap of my black dress
like a scene from the tapestry
that i wove when i was a little girl

romance in stages:
the early stage of doubt and fear
as it slowly melts away into
the reality of a choice well made

like the feeling of a first sip of beer on a hot day
that's just what i needed
Tess is re_alisma re_alisma is Tess tess@durbers.net

1999. Who knows. I made it up.
what's it to you?
who go