Sunday, March 05, 2006
Alas! if I think of her, my throat becomes
dry, my hand falls back, my breasts harden and
hurt, and I shiver and cry as I walk. If I
see her, my heart stops and my hands tremble,
my feet freeze, a redness of flame rises to my
cheeks, my temples beat in agony. If I touch
her, I grow mad, my arms stiffen and my knees
give under me. I fall before her, and I go to
my bed like a woman who is going to die. I feel
I am wounded by every word she speaks. Her love
is a torture, and those who pass by hear my
lamentations . . . Alas! how can I call her
Love ~Pierre Louys 1870-1925
she smiles at me over the brim of her cup of tea
warm lights in her hair
reflect the liquid of her eyes
her fingers dance and beckon
a brush of warm skin as her hand
touches my cold cheek
her skirt falls away
showing more thigh than she realizes
as she laughs at her own humour
I am struck silent
my words displaced by her voice
And I think
I want to be her mirrorLOUIS XIV Music
Posted by Tricia ::
9:49:00 PM ::
F*ck you....No, f*ck YOU! In the b*tt.
Drunk Post Warning!
I know Pup will be mad.. We were supposed to go out again but tonight was kind of last minute. We will again soon.
Tonight we went out to dinner.
We started with YaYas - the only way to start a YaYa night.
Then it was time for lobster tails and crabs... the only rule was that we couldn't eat our own food. We had to crack the crabs and feed them to each other. That meant lots of sucking of butter covered fingers and even more buttery kisses. A few licks of butter covered chins between shots of Patron Silver Tequila. It was a delicious meal and it led to an even more tantalizing after dinner delicacy.
No, not dessert.
We listened to this.
Singing along in the fashion of people who have had entirely too much to drink.
And other songs that took us back.
I did talk to Seamus briefly. In an IM as email sorta way. He said he'll back.
Just on hiatus so no need to remove the link, still his fast exit scared me.
Here one minute.
Gone the next.
Like too many things in my life.
Now I am off. Still a little bleary from the night.
Forgive typos. I am typing with one eye closed.
Had to remove my other links. They seemed to upset my blog stalker.
Everybody wave to blogstalker.
Now go away and get a life.
I thought about calling him and saying f*ck you, then decided to f*ck instead.
Posted by Tricia ::
1:01:00 AM ::