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9.12.06 I attack slowly, like a drill in a faucet: I don't know where I'm going, but the result will be magnificent. I like to drink amaretto in the evenings, beautiful, delicious amaretto, almond-flavored, ethereal, and mahoganic. I wax philosophical, and I describe my mind to my associates. They don't want to hear about my mind, so they ignore me. Gradually I get the hint and I retreat to my candlelit writing table, and prepare my next assault. Oh my love, I want to unravel the pretty lace which binds your heart away from me. I want to forgive you for sins you will never commit. I want to respond reciprocally to your loving response to my love. I want to create new memories. I want to forget the way I felt when the rain dripped down the window and I looked into the future on the thirteenth day of the year. I want to remember the way the ivy curled when I, on the forty-first day of the year, thought, "This is enough; I am content; this is all I will ever need: A beautiful woman with a magical smile who allows me to look into her eyes." Back |