finally spring (not a poem, words)

[starfrosting]

I think I smell the river, some form of g-d,
the night air's cold and smells of straw, mud and saffron I mistake for silt
rising up solid and murky, pulsing like it does
the half moon hung high in skinny blooming branches
I can feel everything,
reaching

* * *
Further proof: there was so much chest hair in my Sovereignty seminar yesterday.

Comments

[transubsituated.livejournal.com]

Haha! I hardly remember chest hair, I was feeling so unwell I was ready to pass out.

Hope you get uptempo soon.

[starfrosting.livejournal.com]

It's not down-tempo in a bad way, exactly. just...adrenaline drips and light beer.

dyou feel better now?

[transubsituated.livejournal.com]

I do; thanks.

Are you going to the city this weekend? The Tribeca Film Festival is going on. I was planning to go but my friend had to cancel. I might go anyway, if I can find the chutzpah to leave work unfinished and break away.

[starfrosting.livejournal.com]

oh cool. that would explain why my parents couldn't find a hotel room (they're coming up for this concert, long story I'll have to tell you in class). so yes, I'm going to be there, not sure about tribeca film festival being there though. keep me posted.

[agoraphiliac.livejournal.com]

Not a poem--ok, if you insist.

I accept your proofs, all of them.