yes that night

I slept with you on the rooftop — under blazing surrealism.

The occasional truck tapped as it passed on the nearby road.

Sweet-natured cows munched their feed below us.

I struggled to keep my eyes open as long as I could.

As dawn drifted upward, my heart became shadowy.

This will be my remembered starry

Paradise forever.




The Problem with Writing

lagoon mystic full moon
Thank you to online photographer



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Thank you, photographer of this online photo.

The ancient Wise One said, “Those who are ashamed of me and my words, of them I will be ashamed….”


It is still true.

If you are ashamed to be a friend of someone who has shown you only kindness and generosity,

it is a putrid shame.

Lonely women: A totally fictional post about a totally fictional love.

lonely woman pixabay
Online image — Pixabay

For almost 4 years I tried to win your heart, invisible man. It has been a rough euphoria. Many times I have been shot through by doubt, attacked by ageism, sexism and hatred of foreigners. But I soldiered on, believing that love conquers all.


Are you a man who wants me but does not want me? Is there any other kind of man, my shadow love?

I wonder why I am drawn to shadow lovers. Perhaps there is a part of my heart that believes I do not deserve to be adored by someone who is actually here. There is also part of me that believes I am a siren. What in me are you attracted to?

I understand that you have seen my full humanity, and it has angered and frightened you. You have angered and frightened me. I have felt the same things you have felt.

At times my feelings have been totally disregarded, but my love has been strong. (Or maybe just stupid.) Sometimes a woman needs reassurance of faithfulness. (I believe, however, there is no such thing. It should not be an issue for me. How I wish I was free of caring too much.) I truly wish to believe in faithfulness and at the same time to detach.

I am foolish-renegade-wild brave, but I am not stupid. This can be exhausting. On the other hand, I am watching your bondage to obsolete and cruel traditions destroy you. Or me. Destroy us, for sure.

I realize now, dear shadow, that I cannot take on an entire nation. I can no longer win millennia of hollow hearts with wise words, charm, ambassadorship or arguing. There is no jump-starting hearts that have been dead for five thousand years.

And so, in despair, I back off. I give up.

And forever long to hear the vibration of the damn I phone.


(This fictional post regards lonely women who are victimized by online predators.)