I say, and you think… Dancer :: Tiny (think: “hold me closer, Tony Danza”) Intellectual :: Giant Direct :: TV Tolerate :: My baby don’t Post :: Fence Instinctive:: Basic Brink :: Disaster Regain :: Control Repulsed :: Fatal Attraction Distressed :: furniture
It’s 1:33 on Sunday morning. We’re home. I have had a little more ‘quality time’ driving the highways and byways of Texas than I can handle at this moment. We have no ice cream, I’m afraid to open the wine, I really ought to go to bed – I’m toast. But I just saw this […]
but it’s sinking. And racing around, to come up behind you again. The sun is the same in a relative way but we’re older. And shorter of breath, and one day closer to death.