Saturday, 23 March 2013

Not-yet-spring fever

Whether or not the outside is wallowing in sleepy snowfall, there's a sunbeam by this window worth lying inside, worth taking your clothes off and reclining upon, worth offering up a stretch of naked skin that says tattoo me with your pretty yellow fingers, grab my shins, scratch my cheeks, be my saturday breakfast valentine. Whether or not we have plans for the afternoon, I need to heft this body off the wooden floor and jackknife upright and thud down the stairs like a pocketblade just picked up and flung at the pretty assistant who is standing by the wall. Whether or not we are going to the lesbian dating pond, I'm still happy to dab the backs of my ears with orange oil and blossoms, I'm still pleased to be a thing with dappled back marks and nicks from the whips. I've still a cowgirl crop in this girl's back pocket because we've better proactive practices than merely waiting with a bit in between the teeth, waiting for a neigh, waiting.

I anoint the flat with grapefruit oil and blutorange, I burn them in the burners, and when we come back home from being outside the air is soft and round and spurts beneath the teeth. I make things here good because all we have to wait out the endless tundra are small soft things and the ability to make here, just this little bit, pleasant and sweet. I turn the light red and stick another picture frame to the wall, I like you, I like girls, I like the smell of oranges, I like cotton dresses blowing on a washing line in the back garden, I like a verdant copse with spatterings of dandelions and daisies, I miss London's dandelions, Berlin, you had better start putting out for me soon.

Take a notebook and tuck it in your back pocket and walk foot after foot towards the end of the road. There, you will find a small park with a swing and the snowmen will be kicked over by then, I promise, I pray. Remember Switzerland and Belle and Sebastian on your walkmen, remember Lolita and the swings, remember one afternoon off a week and now that makes you laugh because you have trouble conjuring up the work to fill one, never mind. Remember that all things come in cycles and no matter how much your jerk brain tricks you it's Sisyphus, there will be a point in the day where the big bad rock starts rolling on down.

Cast your lot in with every poker round, stop clutching at your straws, be generous, be the soft floating dandelion timepieces, be yourself and when they roll their eyes be pleased. There is no greater winner than the fool with the hoolah hoop whirling like a hurdy gurdy; there is no greater pleasure than this sunbeam, the sun. The moment you hold back on the bets and sit this life out is the moment that your hand will start coming up tricks, flushes and full houses, and your tricks are worth nothing if you've sworn off the game.

I am pleased because breakfast was bakery croissants, buttered and flaked, because fresh squeezed orange juice, because Saturday, coffee, because there is a drag queen burlesque party tonight. I am pleased because I did the I Ching, and after so many readings of doom and despair it said never mind pretty Jane, the cycle is upended, you're not going backwards, if you recognize this walkway it's because this is all part of it, and spring, I promise you, will come.

This is all I can think of and this is me all off kilter and I am as impatient as any Greek god who dropped a thunderbolt to prove a point--if I had thunderbolts now I would be flinging them at you and the sky and at every snowdrift, because I am crazybored of this winter time, I am stir crazy lady, I am enjoying the movies and redlight nights but I am also a thing of fury who just wants to skip by the old canal and drink a long frothy pint and look out over the Lee River marshes where the bugs make mayfly promises and fuck and die that very same afternoon.

I have a friend with a boat and a promise of a dry gin fizz and where are all the flower markets and do you ever wake up in sweats with thoughts of wicker, or are you even dreaming birchwards? and if these words have anything to say it is that there is a sunbeam and it has been a long time since sunbeams and I am slightly crazy with coffee and it is minus four degrees, still, outside.

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