trevor has stolen every item of value in the house, one at a time.

the start of today was sort of like walking at night, watching light behind windows.

it was a purple sock day, and a joni mitchell day, and a hot caramel apple cider day, all at the same time.

(traitors, tailors, thieves and sailors, knaves and liars all. tricks and loves, scars indicative of your keeping them in thrall.)

there is something about tailors and seamstresses, isn't there? it might be the tools of the trade. scissors and thread, tape measures and needles are sexy things. i'm fond of machines; the rhythms and whirrings of a singer is more pleasing than many. there is the image of a mouth holding pins for hands too busy. but there is also a vanity to it. you have a skill that can make me beautiful. it can make me anything, really. to my selfish mind, it reflects well upon both of us.