deathdrinkingcoffie asked you:  oh oh you little worry, where are you now? i see the glass of your window but not the little thing behind it. Maybe you grew older, with your birds in summer

Oh yes, endlessly older, all rot and ruin. Sometimes it is difficult to remember how to do the propers, walking and choosing and paying and doing. The reals, and knowing how one looks while one does them. Much much easier to get lost in things and things and thighs and wrings. So we do.

Anonymous asked you:  I love you.

Little greyface. It is nice that you are here, and all blink and beatbeating heart.
There is a tiny wooden bridge near my house, barely necessary, but I am always sure to need it all and I try to peer down between the wood and the water to see if you are there.
And there is that cat black cat that comes wandering over each time, coming from somewhere someone, with a thing to tell but I cannot figure the creak and mew of it. It comes from meetings with you, I think.
And the tree that spitspits and the bird that follows me home and makes the sounds of alllll the birds it can. Perhaps you know them perhaps you taught them. I will find the noises of this bird and put them here so you can tell me if you recognise her chatters.

We will know it, you and I.

deathdrinkingcoffie asked you:  oh oh you little worry, where are you now? i see the glass of your window but not the little thing behind it. Maybe you grew older, with your birds in summer

Oh yes, endlessly older, all rot and ruin. Sometimes it is difficult to remember how to do the propers, walking and choosing and paying and doing. The reals, and knowing how one looks while one does them. Much much easier to get lost in things and things and thighs and wrings. So we do.

Anonymous asked you:  I love you.

Little greyface. It is nice that you are here, and all blink and beatbeating heart.
There is a tiny wooden bridge near my house, barely necessary, but I am always sure to need it all and I try to peer down between the wood and the water to see if you are there.
And there is that cat black cat that comes wandering over each time, coming from somewhere someone, with a thing to tell but I cannot figure the creak and mew of it. It comes from meetings with you, I think.
And the tree that spitspits and the bird that follows me home and makes the sounds of alllll the birds it can. Perhaps you know them perhaps you taught them. I will find the noises of this bird and put them here so you can tell me if you recognise her chatters.
We will know it, you and I.

  1. littleworries posted this