three well-aimed arrows

her looks were what a good friend would not comment on.

who holds back the raging sea?
who keeps trouble far from me?

this far will you come but no more.

i have been dreaming lately of greece, and found it necessary to go back and find the proof that i had indeed touched the aegean sea and burned candles and kissed the mummified and silver-shrouded hand of saint anastasia.

and sure enough, i had.

all i want from you is a letter
and to be your distant lover
that is all that i can offer at this time

this photo brought to you by five beers, a waxing gibbous moon, and July

this photo brought to you by five beers, a waxing gibbous moon, and July

july

not wine-stained lips, but cherry-stained hands.  the semblance of innocence and summer, the semblance of organic restraint.  half-moons and half-moons and the sliver of a third part. 

who am i to resist cruelty when it extends an invitation?