all is quiet

he brings hot coffee and liquer, me white under down and half folded pages contemplating plath and hughes' married life a misunderstood jangle of fixed stars and hot stink of love. my own life folds out in front of me like ribbons blown forward in a hot sudden wind left to rest in a jumble of silky piles upthrown continually by sporadic gusts. the up and down back and forth movement of life so much like birds that bob on waves, still they move, the wave a perfect symbol for all of it sex and life and the mind and the heart. Surprise at the happy anticipation of today and tomorrow and the rest of it, never before so much excitement over possibility. so much has to come before any of it fufilled, hard determination and pure strong will.