Living in Frames, by meshing the lyrical moments of life with the captured images of experience. This is a reverie, a journey, the fork in the road, and the never-ending story....

Sunday, October 30, 2011

Puppies & Violence.

"I swear, people only want to read about puppies and violence." It was late Sunday morning, the kind where we had deservingly allowed ourselves to sleep in and I was methodically dissecting the Times. He was lying on his side with his back to me, reading an article called "The Surety of Fools."
His, "Hmmmmm," in response told me he was only half-listening.
I roll over to become the bigger "spoon", linking my arm through his to hold him closer, loving the combination of warmth and smells that are unique to only him and I, giving me the purest comfort I know.
"How am I ever going to get published babe, if the general public only wants to read stories about puppies and violence."
He puts the magazine down, and turns to look at me. I am small now, his eyes are tender.
"Why don't you write about that then?"
That's his response for everything these days, or at least to me when he knows I am having a dry spell, or have misplaced my muse at the office, in a crowded bar, or among the social circles, forgetting that She should be with me at all times; the whimsical poet who leads me by hand.
I don't have to tell him. He knows when I am guilty, because I talk about everything except the fact that I haven't been writing as much as I should.
He's right though, and I don't feel the need to prove him wrong, like I do when it comes to most things we debate-if I am gonna write god dammit, I say when and what about!
I do not return to the paper. Right now, I just want to be in love with this man. Afterall, there is always tomorrow and writing can wait, its moments like this that never return.
Image by: Louise Laplante, mixed media artist from East Hampton, MA