Morning, my dears. It’s…

Morning, my dears. It's a lovely morning here -- bright and sunny...which means that it will be unbearably hot in the afternoon. Oh well.

I spent a little while finishing up that private web page with the Sri Lankan cycle on it -- that address has gone out to the readers list, and now they can read what they want, when they want. That's satisfying. I don't know if the family trees I put there will help -- I hope so. It's a bit tricky, since they do end up giving things away too (who married whom, etc.). I guess all I can do is leave it up to the readers whether or not to visit them.

Feeling the vague urge to write, but I have a lot of drudgework that I really ought to do. Incorporation stuff -- confusing. Driving worksheets (which are the most damnably boring things I've ever seen). Grading -- easy but tedious. And then there are the household chores.

What I really want is my tea, but the milk went bad. :-( So I'm waiting for Cucina to open so I can buy some milk there. Once I have tea and breakfast, I'll probably feel more coherent and capable. Fingers crossed, at any rate. :-)

Sorta wish I had something profound to say, but no such luck. Guess you'll have to go to another journal for that this morning. But I'll give you a poem instead, that I wrote a week or so ago. Have a good Sunday. Think virtuous thoughts. :-)

Three Desserts

Jello beginning. A tangle, a tumble of bodies, and
everyone was hungry, but all I had was jello. Too
lazy to get up, so one brought it and spread it slowly,
luscious and green on my belly, and another ate it
off, tickling, and I giggled until it was gone.

    Resting after (or before) another
    assault on her salty skin, so pale,
    so sweet. Insatiable. Lips gone
    parched from too many kisses.
    Bodies drenched in languor;
    even the thought of food exhausted.
    Raspberry chocolate melted in the
    ravine between her belly and thighs;
    yes, that will be enough to satisfy us.

Three in the bed, months later, how many years ago? And
I, in love with you and not knowing it -- all of us, then,
reaching for something. You bought espresso after
months learning the curves of each other (and other). She
made tiramisu. Mascarpone and chocolate, lady fingers --
I licked the cream from hers, or was it you from mine?
Sweet and heady, the liqueur dripping over and under
us, until it was over; we knew even then, to eat dessert first.

2:30. Slow going. I worked this morning, and practiced my instruments for a while (it looks like I may start playing with the local SCA group again -- we'll see). But after lunch I got tired, and spent a while reading a book Shmuel sent me forever ago, I Am Spock. Light, but fun. Made me want to watch Star Trek again, so I think I'm going to put on ST VI and watch it while doing some of those silly driving worksheets.

I just got mail from a student doing a term paper on poetry, with a theme of "Days of the Week". He wants to use one of my poems, "One Week After Departure", and wanted to know my interpretation of it. Heh. I gave him permission to use my poem, but he's going to have to do his own interpreting -- I did ask him a couple of questions to point him in the right direction. Still, I'm flattered. :-)

9:00. Well, I did manage to get through two chapters of the damned driving book -- seven more to go. It's pretty fast once I get started -- the problem (as always) is getting started. Then I worked through some more e-mail, got some items off the to-do list, etc. Ironed my linen napkins. (I feel so Martha Stewart when I do that sort of thing; it's kind of creepy, but deeply satisfying at the same time. I think the pleasure comes from taking time away from things I consider important to do something small and civilized and essentially useless. :-)

Eventually I started watching Girl, Interrupted. I liked it a lot, actually. It didn't pack quite as much punch as the novel, but that's probably to be expected, and it was appropriately brutal at points. I admit to covering my eyes at one point, but it's well known that I'm a wimp. I even had a hard time listening to some of the things the girls were saying to each other -- I just take insults and such too much to heart, I guess. It's one thing I pretty much require in a friend/partner -- that they never say those awful things that people sometimes do say to each other. Or, more accurately, that they never say them to me. And I won't say them to them. Fair deal, yes?

I don't really understand how people can say terrible things and then just get past them. I have friends who will say the most awful things to their lover and then be fine the next day. Me, I'd never forget it. An ex of mine once sent me a letter filled with just vile stuff -- and I forgave him; we were even friends for a while after he'd apologized. But I never forgot it, and I don't think I could ever trust him again.

I guess I believe in forgiving, but not forgetting. Words are too important. If you aren't supposed to believe that they meant it when they called you a slut, then how are you supposed to believe them when they say they love you?

Heh. I called Kevin a jerk once...and then spent *days* apologizing. Not that he had taken it to heart...but I had. :-)

Anyway, I'll leave on a more cheerful note. I found some fabulous flash fiction by Mark Aster (author of the reknowned "My Friends, the Allens" erotica series). Great stuff! Check it out! My favorite so far is "Terminus", June 23rd.

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