some notes from the morning of april 15th (Patreon)

sitting in blue lit bubbles from the blue of the sky filling the room before the sunlight comes in.

faded fogged windows.

soft blue skin.

breasts that droop down my ribs and graze the water.

towels that swoosh and swirl into each other.

fresh new buds almost touching the window.

i get out. i drip all over the floor.

bubbles slide down my thigh, calf, ankle and make a new home on the wood.

sometimes allowing the mess and letting it get everywhere,

all over everything,

is what i need.

naked, i grab the tin bucket and scoop gallons of steaming water and pour it out the window, splashing on the rocks.

i watch.

the steam disappears before it gets to my face.

i throw my naked body half way out the window and inhale the sharp april air.

i see yellow; sunlight and flowers and my life before me.

covered and tinted in a soft yellow hue of gratefulness and tingly happiness.

yesterday on the ride home, pink and white blossoming from the floor of the car. wind and music and driving. driving driving driving. now i love driving.

that, alone, feels like a miracle.

i walk out the door with the steam of my cup blowing into my face, the smell of the sweet potatoes fills my nose, muna fills my ears. covered in air on my skin, lemon on my tongue. and the beauty of every glimpse of my home fills my eyes as i spin my way through the morning.

i cant help but feel and notice my life, the littlest most beautiful peices of it. and it all always feels like a movie. like the most beautiful scene in any movie. and i can’t help but want it all to be seen. or maybe just saved, kept forever. i want every piece written down somewhere, or recorded.

there’s something so beautiful about the trash of the morning. the lemon halves sitting on the plate, emptied. the peels of the sweet potatoes, the brown and blue egg shells. rips of the end of the package of butter, cheese crumbs on a knife.