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d e c e m b e r '0 4

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december 26

at the bottom
of it all,
in pink cashmere
and fine shoes
from long, long ago,
I gaze through the split ends
of this crazy strawberry blonde hair,
grinning for a moment
noticing how the ends
resemble the frayed cuffs
of these ratty old jeans...

and I begin to cry
realizing how
none of this matters...

none of this matters...


december 25

I stand at the back,
in the shadows
of the shadows of the last row

this is
my place

this is
my choice

this is
my home...


december 24

for you,


december 22

Am I ok?
you ask...

"How are you?
Are you ok...?"

and I say, "Yeah...
yeah, I'm ok..."

You once knew me so well...
you knew how I was
without asking...

and now, I don't know how
to answer...

except to say, "Yeah...
yeah, I'm ok..."

if or when you will
come to see

I am not


december 21

Welcome to my love affair... 

I am in love
with this house

I am in love with it's presence of light,
I am in love with it's absence of light.

at any hour, every hour, it teaches me
encourages me
inspires me, and
teases me
with it's simple beauty and
unpredictable shadows and
surprising angles and
history and mystery...

and when I take out my camera and see
this dusty, wonderful place through the lens, the

I photograph this home
the way I would a lover,
while making love...


december 22

there is nothing to do here

nothing to accomplish
nothing to achieve
no expectations, and
no assignment to complete

no instructions to follow
no direction to go in
no map to refer to, and
no road to travel on

no goal to attain
no prize to win
no reward to claim, and
no deadline to meet

with the veil lifted,
with cares and fears and beliefs and perceptions
momentarily suspended,
I look around and see my world
for the first time

and I can't help but notice
that there is nothing to do here

no meaning
no purpose
no point, and
no reason for being

I create one

there is nothing to do
but to decide who I am,
to become who I am, and
to be who I am,
according to me

so, with crayon in hand,
I color my world...

with nobody to impress
and nobody to blame...
it's up to me to choose carefully,
and to accept responsibility
as my choices, my colors
are continually reflected
all around me

and I give thanks
for these new eyes,
for this perception of the meaningless,
of the nothingness of it all...

for it is here
that I am able to see


december 19

for my best friend... 
(my heartbeat, my heartache, my heartburn...)

maybe you will come...

maybe you will show up at my doorstep some

there, in those chinos with the little black pen mark
that I never fail to point out to you, and a perfectly
crisp white shirt underneath your snobby black
cashmere jacket ("Cashmere? Seriously? ... ya
snob...") with the little Che button I got for you,
pinned to the lapel... in your left hand, your little
suitcase containing a change of black underwear, and a fresh bar of cold water Sex Wax, and in your right, a
Black Diamond ice axe...

and maybe, when I answer the door, IF I decide to
answer the door, I just might ask you what the fuck
you're doing here and don't you have a wave to catch
or a mountain to tackle and what's in the suitcase
anyway, and I see you're still wearing that god-awful

but you'd most likely grin and politely ask if I could
hold that thought for a moment, telling me you have to
pee really bad, since it was such a long drive and
all... and, your eyes would sparkle when you describe
how eager you were to get here, to see me, that you
didn't stop at all along the way, deciding to hold it until you got here...

and I'd probably roll my eyes and over-dramatically
swoop the door open wide with a sarcastic
ohh-thanks-a-freakin-bunch and watch you hop
enthusiastically over the threshold and skip around
inside, in search of the bathroom...

and I'd direct you to the top of the stairs, saying
that it's there to the left, and immediately caution
you about not getting all cutesy-wootsey with me and
would ya please stop skipping, you're old enough to be my father, fahgodssake...

and you'd know that I wouldn't mean it, not even for a
millisecond, and so you'd prance circles around me,
pausing in front of me just long enough to kiss my
forehead and gently push your nose into my hair... and
as you inhale me, I'd take a step back and look at

really look at you again...

and instantly, my grin would become wider than yours
as I tell you how I've missed you so fucking much...


december 18

eternal kisses, lost... 

once I believed
that I could hold on to your
extravagant kisses for a lifetime...

that somehow,
they would always be here,
with me...
lovingly, playfully, passionately planted on me,
forever part of me...

that somehow,
I could conjure them up out of the half light
and bathe in them
and wrap myself endlessly in them,
around them...

that somehow,
I could simply melt into them
and smile and drift
while they cradled my belly
and stroked my wrists...

once I believed
that I could hold on to your
extravagant kisses for a lifetime...

maybe it was a silly, childish thought
maybe I used to be silly and childish
maybe a kiss simply evaporates
and is not mutually absorbed, afterall...

I don't know
I don't know anything at all

I'm not asking
for your kisses, my love
I'm not even asking
to recall them, to call on them

I simply want to believe in them


december 13

abundant green lights...

green lights,


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are original creations
by me, gee cobain
(unless otherwise noted)

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