but you can only be expected to count so high

[starfrosting]

the first thing that happened was the river overflowed
the water running through the streets and was sweet and cold
i knelt by the water like a doe by a stream
punch-drunk, snowblind, as though the whole thing were a bad dream

and then love pulled out the heavy artillery
kypris took the horses by the bit for the morning ride
i count my blessings, but you can only be expected to count so high
when love cuts the strings

i smeared myself with pennyroyal to keep the hounds at bay
you poked your head out of an alley half a block away
and i recognized you, though i'm not sure how
and the air turned red around you
as a dull chill came down over me

and then love summoned up the infantry
and the green-eyed goddess got ready for all out war
and i'd count my blessings,
but i don't even know what the word blessing means
when love cuts the strings
yeah!

Cos it's in my head and I would count my blessings but that would seem to subject them to quantitative multiplicity when obviously they're more continuous, virtual, and qualitative. Despite weak and bubbly tonsils, intermittent panics, and lack of sleep, they shoot through, die out, shift and endure. (Now I've got Cherry and Trane's "The Blessing" in my head. How'm I ever supposed to concentrate?)

In other news, who's the best at getting extensions/never managing his time? That's right. So now I have time to make dinner for Cathy's birthday and bake a birthday cake and maybe stay up a lot once I feel better working on my paper and maybe even study but probably not.