the brain is a lonely hunter

Been many offline things taking away my life, recently. But don't send out the search-ferrets just yet... I'm here, I'm alive (well sort of). Haven't been keeping up with the flist though, sorry. *hangs head*

For reasons known only to it, my brain has decided that it needs to write poetry this weekend, not prose. Annoying of it. You'd thnk it didn't understand the word 'deadlines.'


from a work-in-slow-progress:


like a warm shower
I anticipate;
think better, feel better:
long for, the moment it's done.



Back later.