my blood will thicken

The Nescafe machine is two flights down. I kid myself that taking the stairs both ways is all the exercise I need every day.

…

Generally being in a maudlin sort of mood, I have been reading poetry, and looking out of windows pensively. I have been pouring over what Atwood I can find on the web. I particularly like this one, and this, this and this and both the variations on the words sleep and love.

“Unfortunately I don’t have leaves.
Instead I have eyes
and teeth and other non-green
things which rule out osmosis.”

This one makes me laugh, because it reminds me of all the times I’ve talked about unzipping a loved one and just slipping in. (You know, warmly cradled inside your rib cage, reading this page from behind your eyes, and listening to your thoughts and the steady thud of your heart.)

Which reminds me that Y has my Borges, and must be hunted down, cornered and forced to surrender it to me. <lets loose the hounds>