I love nights when you go to bed, the paint is wet...when you wake up, it's dry. My heart then flies. In the morning with eggs, with coffee and kids. With rushing and laughter, abrazos y picos, faces coming into their shape, wiping off sediment from the nights tears, with saliva. Music hugs me, and reassures me I'm beautiful and reminds me to breathe. [I forgot to take my time, and give my time.] Give and take, sheesh, yin and yang...After the bath, massaging my daughters little body, making her laugh, shea butter and lavender dreams. I wish to remember what I learned, about all of this...weeping willow's rain drop, travels down from above, to the top of the tree, flows down to the ground, then absorbed by dirt and roots and thirsty bugs, to come up again, through the weeping willow bark, into it's weeping willow heart. wisdom in my heart, please flow upward and shine like the sun through my eyes, blue skies, no more grey.

Intensity, stay. Creativity and play. Be round. Be proud. Drink water, eat lettuce. Be thankful, wear black, wear hats or whatever makes you happy. Just be it, because you don't want to wake up 80 and regret all those times you shoulda let loose, shoulda forgave, shoulda prayed. Shoulda bathed a babe. (right?)

anyway, you get the gist.