words rambling like briars over
fertile ground, reaching
for some common goal, some
shared opinion. We
disagree, sometimes, but gently.
We agree, mostly, in a rush of same syllable synchrony,
tripping over one another, tanglefooted.
Bedtime comes too soon.
So do phone bills.
p.s. I know it is not Sunday today but it made a better title
slow sunday prose
I fall in love with
a story is not just a story but
a window; watching
other people’s lives like
the smell of skin under glass
I like to live vicarious
then shelve them when I’m full and brimming with
sweet soft sounds of
distant loves and
You are not
I messaged you last night by email.
We often speak in pixels; telephone rarely.
Electronic best friend,
Somewhere you are a person
On the other end of our paper cup ---- and ---- string
Speaking into the electric air.
I receive your words at the notification sound.
No outer shell
We commune, plugged in
Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.
I blame you for
Letting me send that text to my Dad.
I never sent accidental texts before.
You fucked up all my apps and
Told me you didn’t work and
Gave me a heart attack
Then worked the second time
Just to rub it in.
He doesn’t want to know how
Much I love Teen Wolf and
That I wish Derek was the alpha and
Bossed Scott around
Instead of this bullshit terminology
That could have been cleared up by
Using a dictionary or
Asking an eight-year-old.
New iPhone OS
When I am dying of embarrassment
I want you to know
It was your fault.
(Teen Wolf rules.)
Note: I have only seen up to ep 3, but apparently this is enough Teen Wolf to cause a wrongly-directed text messaging incident.