oh to be but a small glass crab

one night i went to them. they beckoned me and i went to them. some nights they hid away but i was their little girl, we were one and i loved them and i love you. i went up, i flew in my night-gown and kitty waved goodbye. it was nostalgic but not for forever. i weeped and hugged them all. we played. my throat was tight and i couldn't tell if i was sad or happy. i was a glittering constellation, i was sparkle and fade and knock-kneed. i was little old me. i was with them. but i was with you.

london skies to~day

i am just one big tilde! that sounds too much like a name to not be a name. i want something to do, something really nice. i guess i'll start making T's stars and noam's mix. that's not enough. i could go outside and collect snow. and put it in a bottle. and even when it melts i'll keep it. or give it as a gift.

i wish i lived in the country in a log cabin so i could go into the woods right now and see all the quietness.

is your sweater on?

a snow day, snow outside. it's white. slushy roads but no school or any slush elsewhere. monochromatic breakfast today, by accident, drippy shower soon.

i am alone here again tilde, having stuffed buds with me though. list-making and reading robert frost poems, i hope i can get some drawing done.

"Do you know where my drawing pad is? Because while you two are doing that I think i want to get some drawing done."

"You see that's what I call detached!"

quotingly yours~tilde