I miss the poetry I used to write and post. My mind is too tired to write it, my body is too exhausted to sit here and type - but my mind, it is hungry for the imagery, the sensory input of how words scratched on paper sound. So, I haven't written, but I've read, and this is what I've found to love tonight. Blue Tattoo: Transition
I've said it before, and here I am saying it again. I love Blue's work, I want to roll in it like a clean dog wants to roll in the mud. I want to wear it, smell like it, feel it in my hair.
I want to get dirty in it - and damn if she doesn't always fill that desire.