peaches and planes

Thursday, October 2

Her hands were always so soft, like
peach fuzz warm from the afternoon sun
in springtime.

The twenty rings spread across her ten
slender fingers tap dance along the pages
of the book she holds.

The planes are all meant to crash, she says
as she lets her brain march through the sands
of Mexico.

Here coke and lime is warm next to her,
condensation spreading as she questions why
life does little more than hurt.

via *


  1. breathtaking. <3


  2. oh wow, that's beautiful. it seems a bit different from what you normally write.. lighter, somehow. i love how you can adapt your writing a little to paint a whole different picture, yet stay close to your own writing style. you're amazing :)

  3. I liked this... so many things in common with me, I'm imagining it is me.... yes... why, oh why does life do a little more than hurt?

  4. "the planes are all meant to crash." goodness, yes. xx

  5. Precisely why I had my epiphany:

    Wanna see a perfectly cognizant, fully-spectacular, Son-ripened-Heaven?? … yet, I’m not sure if we're on the same page if you saw what I saw. Greetings, earthling. Because I was an actual NDE on the outskirts of the Great Beyond at 15 yet wasn’t allowed in, lemme share with you what I actually know Seventh-Heaven’s Big-Bang’s gonna be like: meet this advanced, bombastic, ex-mortal Upstairs for the most extra-groovy-paradox, pleasure-beyond-measure, Ultra-Yummy-Reality-Addiction in the Great Beyond for a BIG-ol, kick-ass, party-hardy, robust-N-risqué-passion you DO NOT wanna miss the sink-your-teeth-in-the-smmmokin’-hot-deal. Cya soon…

  6. Yes, it's different but still you, and your comments are always more than welcome. Thank you darling.

  7. great descriptions! i like the part about peach fuzz. :-)


Thank you for your words; they light a fire in my heart. You are lovely.