Poisoned Punch Bowl

a diary of thought.








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www.poisonedpunchbowl.com
2003-05-14
12:32 a.m.


Naked juice, cats opening and closing doors, lit a candle and it's flame reached up to the ceiling, roaming the aisles of my favorite grocery in search of the perfect onion. Smooth red and feeling like fire inside.

I am staring at the arch in the park. My feet move me like wheels. I clench my teeth sometimes and then I remember to smile.

We'll paint the living room wall blue, the bookshelf ruby red. We'll figure out the garden. We'll keep banging our heads on the pipes until we realize that they are low. Until we realize they are there. We'll get flustered with unpacking and shout at each other, then we'll laugh and dip pretzels into mustard.

Today is over and it is streaming into tomorrow, which is really today. Popsicle is blaring one of those legal /detective/court series things on tv. The sound is distracting. I am off to bed with a book and snuggly pair of pants.

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