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Red Lipstick & Green Ink [userpic]

I unwound him from his iPod...

July 26th, 2006 (05:20 am)

I was afraid he would choke.
The ear buds had fallen out and he was messing with the wires in his sleep...
Took it from him and put it on the trunk that serves as a bedside table when the futon
is unfurled...stroked his hair and kissed his temple. He barely woke. Just stirred and
smiled. I put my face against his and smelled him.
He smells so good.

Of course he wouldn't choke...but, but *sigh*

Must our schedules always be this different?

Want to be sleepy, but I am just tired.

I checked the alarm clock to make sure he had set it right.
Of course he had....
But I had to check.

That is what the Little Root does...

He will wake, shortly after I lay down to sleep.
Work finally worn off me, and all that I need to do in my wee hours, done.

he talks in his sleep, and i cannot make out the words...but he laughs.
sometimes...he hums a little.

I keep wanting to say "when we met"--but we met 12 years ago.
We have known each other...been family, for many years.

Still...I want to say: When we met...because it was a moment.
That moment--when he asked me if I wanted to go to dinner.

Universal-Glass shattered.
Everything started over.

I can literally remember the expression on his face, the lighting even...
That Moment.
I remember that moment, vividly.

I wonder what day it was...if we will celebrate it...
I'm odd, in that I can look it up.


He's pushed the comforter to the foot of the futon and off onto the carpet, the A/C is FAR
colder than I would ever set it....he is thrown in the centre of my black sheets, crucifix
on his belly--dug in under my too many pillows to hide from the small light I have kept
on from the bathroom, to see my way around the Tree House.

I want to be sleepy...

He would have slept better, at Drew's.
But he came here.

To be with me.
And if I try to touch him, I will wake him...and he needs to sleep.

*head in hands*

He's humming...I'm going to bed.
Just to be warm next to him, for a couple of hours.

He seemed cold, I pulled the comforter over him...
He's asleep in the MIDDLE...I will have to shove him gently over.


The youngest.

Ginger, the protective big sister.


Generalisations seem shoved to the carpet as well.

Humans are amazing.

No death is ever the same.
We cannot share the loss, it is unique.

No birth....each is a miracle in and of itself.
Unmatched, wholly new.

And each Love, each time, every time....no matter how many songs are written?

It has NEVER happened before.