Saturday, August 7, 2010

a red sleeping bag

How terrible—I've realized I'm much more eloquent when I'm unhappy.

I don't think there is anything you could say or do to make me not want to know you, which is terrifying and exciting and 100000 things at once. [You cradle sunsets in your arms, after all] After so many failed attempts to stop smiling and to instead be wary, guarded, cautious, etc. I can't help anything anymore, and I'm sorry for the clichés but half the time I think in clichés anyway—the world could stop here and now and I would be happy, not having done anything but stare into your irises and see all the beauty of Creation staring back. Is that too dramatic? Too stupid? Hopefully not, because I'm dead serious. [When you're you, I'm me at my best.]

You've changed my life. Thanks.

1 comment:

Natalie said...

the thought on whether or not i'm dramatic also evades me. I think your words are lovely, Joanne.

there's no follow button pour toi! I'd like to follow your posts m'dear :)