GO FOR GOLD! SILVER LININGS ARE SO LAST YEAR!

There is a boy pacing beneath her window, reticently in love.

Yet she will remain as tongue-tied as the schoolgirl

you walked home, long ago, under a bicentennial moon.

So damn ready

When joy’s a concept, a word, abstract,

When you feel guilty for feeling sad,

Effervesced with sparkling wit,

We babbled woo-woo truths for twits.

Sultry as Bacall

I didn’t know it was such a long way from Montreal to Santa Cruz. Obviously, I knew how far it was from a geographical point of view. But to actually travel there non-stop in a bus? The sheer endlessness of it didn’t register until my bum went numb after the umpteenth pitstop in the middle of nowhere. Were we nearly there yet?

After nine notes and a chime,

I hope.

I only flinch

I’m a giddy superfan I am I am I am!

Unsettled, I have staggered on,

Fragile, broken, mending,

Fluffing tattered feathers,

Of course, we never went even once went there to work out, although I remember using the pool and the jacuzzi. I also recall using the tanning booth quite a bit, because Mr. Super-Hot - whose name was Jacques - would come in and make sure all was well, and adjust my little glasses, and press the button to make the tanning lights come on and sit there for ages asking me all sorts of questions about myself. He was excellent for my ego.

I spilled the beans, they’re rather hot, his manhood really hit the spot!

She harnessed herself to his heart, haunting his harmonies with her smoky voice

She sheds her faded nightgown for silks and satins dripped in delight

Why is my WIFI unstable?

Something about her

Still tongue-tied his thoughts,

Because, honestly, who cares!

Meteorological vandals held riots last night