jacktellslies

Today has been composed mostly of the following:

Brand new pinstriped trousers, the best pair I've ever owned.
Morrissey, Bona Drag and some other things.
James, Laid.
A great deal of luck.
Placebo, Every Me and Every You.
Andrew Marvell, To His Coy Mistress.
A mix that Alex made me, Genderfuck.
An enjoyable essay on cuckoldry located at the front of my copy of Much Ado About Nothing, the Folgers edition.
Many cups of red tea.
The Pennsylvania State Board of Education academic standards for history and science and technology, grade twelve.
Choderlos de Laclos, Les Liaisons Dangereuse.

We went to dinner at the Olive Garden, because we are classy. We shared a pitcher of peach sangria. I thought I might go out, but she and I had a quiet night alone with television and tea and the sofa and blankets. It was soft and familiar.

It is Saint Brighid's Day. It was a nice, slow, lazy sort of awakening. It is strange, though, that there is no cold for her to chase away, or to bring back into herself. Flowers out of season mean trouble without reason.

Oh! I got a Valentine!