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The reddest of cardinals flew across her achingly lush green lawn, yet she still thought of Ireland and had to take the neighbor's ginger cat back out as JoJo was restless.
she watered the feeble "garden" of two weak tomato plants and a healthy basil. The wild flower seeds she had put in pots were blooming and she was looking forward to the physical stimulation that mowing the lawn with a manual reel mower gave.
It made her kind of laugh on this sort of sad day to think of U2. She still hasn't written you about the time in Dublin because it was mostly just a background to her epic struggle with her mum and sis.
Everything had been new and inevitable. It felt a tiny bit like not the most flattering way to be introduced to Ireland, yet she was returning - and there were parts of it she loved - Merrian Square felt comfortable.
her armpits and legs had been shaved since the easter uprising with the initiator. She thought of him all the time like a whisper. For now, she was hoping for some shouting.
At the music show that her mother had looked spaced out for - the singer had said the words "good Craic" and it just titilatted her for decades. She never had a solitary pint, but she had many many Guinness pints with her sister and mum.
Again, the flowers were blooming in pots. The birds were singing. The air was heating.
The only time she felt connected was off of Grafton street - near Trinity. She was eager to try it again - almost compelled. the moment after she bought the tickets, it became the realest real.
"a vampire or a victim? it depends on who is around."
"you can go anywhere..."
It had been hard for her to respond to him via that fucking
"stay with the demons you drown. stay with the spirit I found. stay and the night would be enough...."
She danced to that song often and had many memories of herself "doing ballet" in her house in Wilmington while her spouse was away away away.....
the key was - well with all dancing - hitting the beats (or playing with them - yet you must know the beats).
The thing she had been unable to answer adequately when he asked but she loved that he asked because dancing was so very important to her fat short body.
well, he wasn't a professor, but he was a dean.
"did I disappoint you? leave a bad taste in your mouth"
It surprised her that she felt feelings as the old lady tortie cat hobbled by.
She hadn't heard "one" in a while. You too?
"have you come here for forgiveness? ... have you come here to play Jesus to the lepers in your head...."
The claustrophobia that she felt when she recalled her youth could sometimes cause her to implode with panic as if - she'd fucked up beyond repair.
He asked "why do you like those two dancers?"
It's more than "like" - and it's actually Dan more than Mark - but I know I have it with Mark and not Kent so it's not just people who love me - it's people who don't give a fuck and give me that freedom - who can PLAY and look you in the eye and you're there partner for that song and you honor the song... and you know this dance ...
whatever. he had dumped. she half thought he made up some dumb polite excuse and she wouldn't at all blame him. everyone all her life had said that Irish men would love her - that she had that sort of face. It was true, on the app, she had never had such beautiful fealty. It was truly truly gratifying and validating, yet the one she chose - the one that stuck with her of all of them (really his environment turned her on) was like her - not a drop of Irish blood but steeped in the lore.
"... and I don't know what happened to our love...." chaos mode decided to put on the last day of our acquantance - and she makes a note to check out Sinead when she's back.
now "beautiful girl" by INXs - the first non-irish.
but she was "stay with me.... beautiful girl. beautiful girl.....do you want to go home.... from doorway to doorway...."
but as she said, she was going to revisit Sinead's song. What she hadn't told him about the way she danced - it wouldn't really be something a dance floor would welcome.
"she's so sky... so very frightened."
the cat has come in and out several times, and narcissi wears her Coca Cola shirt and prepares to mow the yard. getting dressed is such a step.
he was nothing with a future, but she wanted to kiss him after she drank four pints of 4%ABV (I know right! so low) Guinness, and she wanted to talk to his mind and dance and ... she'd mucked it up fucking texting. but hey, it it was to be mucked.
He didn't even tell her she was a secret singer. in fact, let's rewind "stay inside" by Zebulon Georgia's own vic chestnut
"suddenly, everything's different. ....I just wanted...
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