all the morning

outside with my notebook and coffee this morning on my cold little stoop, the moon was white and full in the little window between the tall trees. i'd never seen it there in the morning before. the earth has spun now, i suppose, now that it is winter. and that morning moon was full and gleaming. bright white. a chill came down and my breath went white as well.

the roast is roasting. the coffee is brewed. and the smells made my dreams strange this morning while i was curled up waiting for my hazelnut. i drempt i was very fat. not in my face but as my eyes crept down the length of my body, my body got larger and larger and dimpled and puckered. the largeness of the moon reminded me with all its pits and pools. i was not afraid in my dream or angry or repulsed. i just looked at myself in the mirror and smiled at my naked reflection and then i woke up.

and then i sat and watched the moon dip down as i scribbled and scribbled in my new notebook. its window wide and open but she slipped low behind the black curtain of tangled branches and thin leaves and needles. edging down. bashful. guarded. the sky moved from indigo to prussian blue to my beloved and dusty cornflower and, now, the pale blue of certain dogs eyes.

most of the names i use for colors come from paint tubes and crayons.

and again last night, we curled up in bed, safe and silent and turned our pages. a soft moment shared. i read two more shorts in "The Bloody Chamber" and one from "Rose Red". sinister fairy-tales. adult, dark, and devoid of the 'happily ever afters'. there is blood and corrupt virgins, stealthy in their knowledge of men. and Alice runs and jumps inside my brain somewhere; playing games and arguing with herself, two people at once, pretending and dreaming and talking talking talking. such a chatter-box little girl. just like i was. just like i am. my first true sentence was, "mama, let me tell you something". and Alice is not at all embarrassed. i like that her favorite thing is to talk to herself. little quizzical day-dreamer, little daffodil.

my faceless maids are waiting for me. our relationship is in reverse- they give me the instructions and they've started talking again. side by side, three large canvasses against the white wall, enjoyably haunting my home. titanium white and mars black and german earth and sepia and ivory white. oh, they are lovely and i miss them already even though they aren't even finished yet. my loves! my lovely, lovely ladies! if i could be as beautiful.