| i like when one spoken word creates vibrant colours that swirl inside my head. watermelon lipgloss, and kisses from my kitty, cleo. i like the stars on guadalupe's shoulders, and the petals at her feet. Bonham's drum track on 'the ocean', the pause with plant's haunty "naaa na nuh-nuh-nuh-nah na..." and then the <boom!>. the smell that still lingers from when i was a kid, of an old man's fragrant sweetpeas curling along a cotton string somewhere in a garden off a busy streetcorner lot in oceanside. run on, running on and along sentences. laurie ann's pina coladas and aveda's shampure, oh and the tiny mound of moss that grows on a pipe outside my neighbours door, i like the miniature cat-tails that sprout from the center of it - a private micro island. raindrops caught on blinking, feathery lashes, the twinkling they make. i like the middle swing up at the rose gardens, and the yellow star in my sister's eye. the way tom waits tells a story, and when he howls... how it resonates between my tits - in a deep hollow behind my lungs. when the phone rings, and the voice on the other end is the person i was just thinking of. i like the way kittyprincess frankie proudly sports her tuffy-ass spiked collar. mca, adrock, and mister michael diamond... "like a dream i'm flowin 'thout no stoppin - sweeter 'an a cherry pie wit readywhip toppin - yeh, i think i'm losin my mind this time... this time, i'm losin my m i n d <squelch> ...yeeeeah". woo, i like that. my hoody with the iron-on daisy on the sleeve, and the way smoke swirls in a dusty shaft of sunlight. q-tips, and my old vinyl records. cerulean blue, and when bubblegum is still soft and sugary enough to blow a super-huge bubble. the way this one ink pen writes, and the way jellyfish move. i like really good, no really, really good green, and the road leading to hana and her seven pools. an exchanged glance, a whisper, slinking and snaking, rolling like fingertips, teasing and violating in twenty three directions all in that one moment <snap>. fast crunchy burps, and when i'm right on time. i like finding something, just when i've accpeted it's lost for good. the soft fuzzy leopard print of my hello kitty bag, and the way warm baggy thermals feel after all day at the beach. the drive to vegas, and the sticky ziggizagg a caterpillar tickles in your palm. i like walking up hawthorne early in the morning with the wind blowing through my messy curls, catching last night's perfume. when you can really see a snowflake, and redecorating barbie's house while she's out slutting it up by the pool - tootin with a few of her high-maintenance coke-whore friends. maidenhair ferns in pastel bauer pots, and interpretive dances to the stones' honkeytonk woman. i like when people truly understand [god is in the details]. charo's cuchie-cuchie, and the way he calls for me across a crowded room, before actually locating me. the redwood forest behind my auntie's house, and the faeries there. i like catching people through their windows, preparing for the day. the inflection in sam's "ugh, whevurrr!", when advising me on life's bigger issues, and two (2) coats of hott gloss on painted fingers and toes. this super little periwinkle flower that has a bright yellow center, and grows in my mum's yard. i like hiding trinkets in small spaces, and this girl that consistently pulls perfect shots for my complicated coffee requests. black & whites, and the extra sparkley glitter that comes in the long glass tubes. the way tori amos plays hide and seek on stage, and how she comes with her piano. i like the patterns of the old ceramic (chiqlette) tiles on the bathroom floor, and the way oil makes rainbows in street puddles. my worn coop zippo, and that sunny afternoon in my new bedroom. i like watching slow creeping clouds, and the cheap champa in the blue and red box. my dad's infectious laugh, and the snappy tart of a fuji apple. the chill that nips at my wings and the tip of my nose when i fly, and i like fingers running through the green green grass. the dense powdery of the chalky moon, and while underwater, tendrils of hair uncurling, orbiting around luminated faces. i like patty and jimmy, and chococat. i like making a surprise for someone, and the way worn sterling softens. feeling someone's glowing smile on my lips, while getting lost behind their eyes, and blue coloured soda. georgia's poppies & cannas, and i like magpie's sequined window displays. i like when rain, so faint, sounds like those fireflies in that soft leafy forest in upstate n.y., and the way stardust bubbles in pink champagne, how they do tickle my tutu. the whistle zip on sugarshack, and the snow white of ms. Springfield's voice when she tells about "takin time to make time". i like the wide-eyed innocence of a child's wonder, and when jason combs his fingers through my hair, telling me in a drunken-pimp slur how "prittay" it is. i like opening my eyes, upon surfacing, just when i begin to feel the sunrays burning through the saltwater, beaming down on my smiling face. the lava-fire sparks in shirley's hair, and... |
