you write a song about a whale

I'll just think of bonus yoga ;)

gonna go to yoga,
gonna go to yoga,
hot yoga, sweaty yoga
gonna go to yoga

now get out on the mat,
get out on the mat
bend and twist, and
bend and sweat
hot yoga hot yoga

and when i'm done with class
hop in to the shower
when i'm done with that,
then i'll come on over

have i told you, i'm frisky
these positions, ain't risky
cause i went to yoga
hot yoga hot yoga

bonus yoga time
you show me yours,
i'll show you mine
bonus yoga time

hahaha
ha
ha

all i want for christmas is you

for realz.

she must have been crazy

you are magical

i would rather be poor
and occasionally hungry
and have to work for things
and keep my old friends
and make new ones
and stay myself
but keep growing
and figure you out
and catch your curve-balls
and continually make myself better
and sleep on the twinster
and still dream in color
and foolishly dance
but with the best partner

seriously, you are magic
like a marker and i like to draw

walking in a winterwonderland

down the salted sidewalk
big thick flakes
stick to my eyelashes and
hit me in the face
i blink and the moment is over
hopefully i maintain footing
not fall on my ass in public
been working on stability but
in heat, and not in wind
ready for summer.
or a beach somewhere.

the waiting part

is quite hard, but
i'm trying. we're growing
even though it feels like 8 below
i'm taking time
but i still wont wear a watch
i look for neat ones to give you though
keep me warm tonight
i need more than kitten love
i prefer your whiskers
rrroww

its too damn cold

to think this much
about not a lot
i don't know what to say
i binged on butterflies again
they swarmed up to my brain
my thoughts like a plague,
there are bats in my ribcage

i feel some heat then
back to sunny yet snow covered streets
trudging my way back,
glance down your alley
and onward,
her sentiments echo mine
more eloquent and in better time

sorry i'm boring, but the snow is high

thursday schmursday

222 i wish for you.
and sexy time too...

ready to be done with this.
not digging on the cold.
i am so, windblown.
feed me a taco, i'm hungry i think
look, i'm getting old
but my shirt is hand sewn

put it in a marquee
write it on the moon
these silly, silly ideals
come no minutes so soon

i miss high ceilings,
roommates, with feelings
the cats want more company
is it to soon to entertain these ideas
i must be making this up
i have to be