7 months of snow, why can't i just be me? why do i think i can't be me? i looked a paintings of my paul today, i love him as intensely as i ever did. deeply do i long for him, and so i long for other men, because my inability to give him snow, is what i think made him more silent than a cold spell of 40 below. a south wind blew, yet another man i meet; i want him badly, i long for him so deeply, really i barely know him, not taking time for pleasantries. i love the kind, they reach for me almost instantly, they reach for diamonds that i offer them. I might say, should we not take it a little slower. but really that would make me so uncomfortable, to wait for things i want to happen. so now, only now, this time around i will give him space like air trapped under snow. The snow it does change and when you step upon that silver sheet,
it will collapse quite wonderfully. i will give him space, i will try this time, even if he talks he wants me now, now deeply, fill me totally. i will try to be the winter here and take it slow.
slow slow slow forever all night long, will my faked silence be rewarded.
so i can be the sun.
i never thought i would speak this way
but i can try