my costumes are beautiful under the lights, and there is love in the world.

I am tentatively alright. every day, more pictures go up and there's a pang and a wrenching I need to try harder to ignore. but everynight I dream of how I don't love you anymore, and then I find him sitting in a resturaunt with someone else. the two twist in on themselves, until I'm not sure who I'm missing.

I am sure that I'm delusional, though. the poetry I read in the morning comes to the surface all too often. I daydream in metered verse. I close my eyes and see red wheel barrows.

ash @ 8:20 AM