like, nothing to say

it's as if I had nothing to say
...strange

a handful of postings in multitude of weeks

one would expect me to be bursting with thoughts;
with all the stimuli there is for grabs here
"I am so lucky"

the language, the culture, the people

the lack thereof.

too much of everything
makes me numb
tired
bored
-- it's like living in the Sims
(not the dating-kind)

and I just want to get back to my RL

cats and boys

"boy, you're something else!"
she exclamated affectionally
at the cat,
when it,
purring with contentment of participating
in its mistress' life and doings,
walked on the laptop keyboard
knocked down some books
and shed a few hairs in her cup of coffee

and I thought,
what an apt analogy of me and you

you're not a cat
and I'm not your mistress
--no pun intended--
but you are
you are my something else

free-willed and wanting
able and aided
charming and intervening

boy, you're something else

room to share

Do you remember
our first years together
We shared a narrow bed,
and one blanket
- clonking legs together,
pulling back some blanket;
it was fun and intimate
We couldn't go back.

Here I live in luxury:
they gave me a queen-sized bed
and four pillows just for me

My heart is the kingdom
which we reign together
So my queen,
when I go to bed at night,
I'm saving a place for you
- half of my bed is yours,
3 pillows mark the spot

and I sleep on the left,
as always.

flutter

is what I feel inside
- as if you were on your way here

is what I feel on my lips
- as if you had just outlined them

is what I hear at night
- as if you were whispering kindness

... untrue, I know
but to keep myself cheerfully going
from day to day
I allow myself to think
it is really you
who creates the flutter
who maintains my sanity

and not my lingering imagination

as you now sleep alone in our bed
feel this,
here is my reply: