Waiting for Sunset (11, on second thought...)

Now I am about to finish the final draft of a book of poetry.  She said she kept hearing voices. At least physically. I had a look at Danny's FB page. Yet I find the strength to cheer away little irritations that come my way. I used to play with Paul, the lead singer, and James, the drummer. My tumors are all behaving themselves too.

We have an unusual relationship. We have changed considerably since the continuous crisis. Like the ringing in my ears. Our 'disputes' are often such things as: Isn't a belief in rationality completely irrational? The change has been positive. The astonishing elasticity of our love over the numerous tests of our limits.

These are why I am exhausted. I often enjoy such things. But life's struggles made him quite aggressive. I often appeared to be very strong. If the buttefly sits on the horns of the bull then she gets a free ride and makes the bull look pretty. Then I'll train my dragon from a distance. I could play the blues. So we're starting over. My husband is the dragon.







--(These are prose composed from recent journal entries. I mix the sentences in various ways. A certain atmosphere is created as a result. It is somehow a way of consolidating my thoughts and feelings over time. To see what's buried or where things could go. Thanks to John Feddeler for comments leading to these thoughts.)