"You are, at once, both the quiet and the confusion of my heart."
As of right now, I don’t want to leave the house until I’ve learned Czech, finished the other half of my album, successfully done a juice fast, and finished sewing all the things I’ve intended on sewing for months.
Flowering Shrubs and Plants, James Kimrey Hindle (After Jan Van Eyck)
My man is strapping a hammock, a bow, and a bunch of arrows to his back and living on the Hungarian trail for two months.
And my best friend arrives in Prague tomorrow.
I will probably cry a lot in the next 24 hours. :)
At least I know that I’m alive and that I am full of love.
I think you will disappear.
And I will find your
varnish-stained sock in my washing machine
months from now.
I will take that sock to my backyard
and burn it.
And I will scatter the ashes
in the river that we bathed in
every day during the summer.
Every subsequent time I wash there
I will feel your fingers
sliding over my shoulders
and your thumb
on my lip.
I will give myself a pine cone
as a present
and recall the bouquet of
foxgloves and ferns you gave me
when you wanted my hand but
had no money.
The dust will settle.
And I will bury my legs and torso
in dark dirt and sit
for two whole days.
Birds will no longer be afraid
and the deer will eat the plants around me.
When I finally rise,
the river will be waiting for me,
and your arms,
slivers of light,
will wash me.
Max, Elise, archery, Prague, loveliness, 2013.
My love smells of camp smoke and pine sap.
He shines in the river and is one with the sun.
His back is tough.
My love is a wild man.
A beautiful, sad, rough, wild man.
Say hello to the newest addition to my life in Prague: Baloo! He reminds me every day to slow down and enjoy the little things.
I’m counting the hours until Maxwell Deyes walks into my life in Prague.