A Crescent Moon.
A new mole has appeared on my arm, a fresh passenger. It is in the shape of half-moon, a crescent of melanin painted with a fine brush by an aged hand. A lunar lunar mejor dicho, quizas?
What dermal dance of molecules precipitated this arrival? What new regime in those distant cellular worlds? A melanocytic kingdom, newly formed and hopeful ; young nobles filled with romantic optimism? Or cruel robber barons staining the land with their dysplastic deceit?
I’ll take the former…the approach of a new moon ; a new cycle begins. Una oportunidad nueva y valiente.
So welcome young companion. But be warned, comport yourself well, I’ll tolerate no malignance here.
This was lovely and I like the way you have set up your page here. By the way, I did approve your comment to me and my blog and I very much appreciate your opinion.
Michelle ~
Thanks Michelle. You seem like a nice lady, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and accept that, rather than cynically manipulating vulnerable people for profit (which I think we can agree is really quite evil), you are probably just deluded and living in a fantasy world. No offense, like. Give us a cuddle.x
I was just talking about all my new moles lately. you always make me laugh. lovin’ the categorie tag too btw
Hey stranger, thought you were lost in the internets. How are things?
As for the cat tag…I thought ’scream’ of unconsciousness might have been too much. Scream of unconscionability? Er, no, let’s leave it.
hey. juan? u left me a message but i’m not sure if this is you. i really like this post anyway. hope to talk to you soon.
Sorry, I’m not juan, though sometimes I wish I was somejuan. I could have been a contender.
Glad you liked it though.
haha, funny – your response.
my computer died and i thought i would procrastinate productively and try to seek out the real world. needless to say, behold my return.
Waking Imago
Tearing open a scribbled envelope
To find myself fresh paper~~
I can see you there where you be.
Do you know the artist’s gesture?
How he extends his arm and thumb
Trying his sight-line?
You are there on the tip of your thumb,
Perched on your brachial bowsprit,but
I can’t quite see your form.
Which way do you face,
Launching fire-works(sometimes supernovas)
From your sea-rock promontory
Jutting into the night?
Sometime back-turned flexure bent
Huddled over your devices,
Sometime outward arching with sudden
Intake,as before a swan-dive,
Or, as circular breathing of a toroid flow
I can just imagine how,at once
Drawing and back-diving,
You would look both ways.
Is that how you pull yourself together
Your plasma of a morning?
{Mustn’t block the flow~~x10x}
Hmm, some projecting there? Either way, you win, it’s beautiful.x
Excellent thought,thanks! On consideration, it must have been my arm in the vision.Scratched it out quickly before work today so as not to let it vanish. Should be a comma after ‘plasma’~~x10x