notes:
2009-11-20

You came home with a plush embryonic alien and a note with four promises. I took the alien stuffed toy and held it delightfully to me, because I've never been one for roses. The note was folded with that delicate high-school precision of third and fourth period, its edges creased and smudged from holding it in your pocket all morning.

You gave me these promises, these words and these tiny faithful affirmations. . . from your hand to mine.

This means something to me:

It means that I believe you.

This time, make certain that it means something to you too. . . or I'm gone.

pinprick in ♥ your horizon