shut up and kiss me

Sit down. No over there in my favorite chair. You’ve changed your hair. I like it, yes. When you pull it back like that it exposes more of your lovely skin. You know, Grace, I should call you Redbud. Why? Because your rose-colored blush is the same as its blossoms in the Spring, and that lipstick you’re wearing - yes! That lipstick is the exact shade of a redbud tree in all its summer glory. Sometimes, I have this repetitive nightmare of a woman laughing like a horse with lipstick missing her lips with chunks of stick streaking around her cheek. Ah, but we’ll leave my worse dreams for another day now that you are here.

Yes, it has been a warm week. Warm enough to tire magpies that hang around here. That’s why they’re walking about I guess. Once, one walked up to me carrying a box of matches - don’t laugh! - really, I’ll tell you sometime. Did you see the white moon this evening? It looks like the mischievous grin of the Joker.

Oh no, she likes you, My Little Girl. Yes, that’s her name. I can just tell. How? She’s never been a happy-tail-wagger. Just then, when she laid her head upon you lap, made eye contact, and let out that long sigh. Now you have a friend for life, believe me. There’s a certain balance there - as though your heartbeat rates match perfect. The same with your breathing. A man walks into a bar. He can try every pickup line in the book, but all he has to do is get into the same breathing pattern of a woman and she’s all his. No, I never tried it. Just one of my theories. Enough though, I wanted to share a lucid passage from this book of poetry you might like.