December 23, 2019

An ex-pat friend tells me he stopped reading my blog
because of all the sexual content.
An editor tells me that “cum” is not a word.
A former boxer current professor tells me that Steven Spielberg’s oeuvre
is problematic because he “doesn’t use African-Americans
in any of his films.”
My alcoholic ex-boyfriend tells me he’ll miss having sex with me
but I need to grow spiritually.
My purple elephant vibrator doesn’t tell me anything.
I love its affirmative buzzzzzzzz.

Misti Rainwater-Lites


December 23, 2019

Books have a soul, the soul of the person who wrote them and of those who read them and dream about them.

Carlos Ruiz Zafón
The Angel’s Game


December 23, 2019

A lovely thing about Christmas is that it’s compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.

Garrison Keillor
Leaving Home


December 23, 2019

The road was still paved with yellow brick, but these were much covered by dried branches and dead leaves from the trees, and the walking was not at all good.

L. Frank Baum
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

an intensification of silence

December 23, 2019

The night. Melanie let herself into the night and it sniffed out her daytime self at once, between two of its dark fingers. The flowers cupped in the garden with a midnight, unguessable sweetness, and the grass rippled and murmured in a small voice that was an intensification of silence. The stillness was like the end of the world. She was alone. In her carapace of white satin, she was the last, the only woman. She trembled with exaltation under the deep, blue, high arc of sky.

Angela Carter
The Magic Toyshop