three well-aimed arrows

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

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


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?

"Remember, Rosa, that every day you quicken into motion waves that undulate on to the very confines of existence; you stir up waves that break upon the shores of eternity itself.  And it is of much importance whether they are waves of brightness that are radiated, bearing light and fragrance far and wide, or whether they are waves of gloom, carrying misery and misfortune to loosen pent-up glaciers that will create an Ice Age of the national heart. 

Consider love in its perfect form, in its unconditional sacrifice, its affinity with all that is loftiest and most magnanimous in the soul of man.  Consider the force it opposes to everything evil and impure.  Consider the power of love, how the hovel is transformed into a palace, how chill winter becomes radiant summer, how poverty itself becomes a very bed of roses.”

Independent People, Halldor Laxness