02 May, 2004

Crash- Crash- Crash- (Watch For Falling Woman)

...say hello, goodbye/Say hello, then wave goodbye...

The tricky bit of standing on the tip of possibility is being as prepared for falling into the gorge as bursting into flight, or flames.

There are those that find my level of intensity intimidating. I've been accused of having only two speeds, overdrive and reverse. I pointed out that reverse isn't a speed, it's a direction. Well, the guy's a lawyer, not an English major, so his blunder is forgiven. I guess I only have one speed. It works for me. Life is short.

I know better than to believe whatever timetable he tells me, because situations change so quickly, it's an exercize in futility. Still, I was worried by the delay. Sleep was a hairy animal that I failed to catch.

" ...load from hell...regulator a little loose, but not too bad....looked at my compressor... shot all over the place...'Open the goddamn valve!'....latex oozing all over the crash box...Coval, to be exact...."

I have no idea what he's saying. Just that it was bad.

Brown strands shot with silver tangle in my fingers.

"It feels good to have you play with my hair."

Yeah. Mine sulks in its repressed twist.

He takes such GOOD care of me, cuddles and pets me, just as he does the children and the dogs.


Spongelike, my skin is attuned to, absobent of every little thing. 80*F and sunny is perfect Naked Weather. Insulated as I've been against the frigid bite of winter, my skin is starved for the touch of mist, sun, wind, rain, sand grass fingertips concrete leaves dirt lips.

I tug the knot in the cloth that serves as garment, letting it float to the ground, where I spread it flat and lie facedown in the collection of strings I call bikini. Face pressed against the fabric, through its weave I smell the sweet scent of spring grass.

Sun is a warm waterfall along my thighs, waist, shoulders. Could I be happier? Yes. But not at THIS moment.

I never put on underwear AT ALL yesterday. Swimsuit, start to finish. Come on, tan lines!

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