Come to me, on slippered feet, chipped porcelain in hand; the saucer rings with delight as it’s lover, Cup, sits lightly in its lap. Come to me, on dark winter days when your shadow darkens my doorway and I can hear the Raven on the lamppost, her mournful cry piercing the darkness as the cold…
#BoobDay – Velvet Daydreams
Ooops, I almost forgot it’s Boob Day! Ah, the challenges of getting back into routines, post-Holidays. I’m having a calm, quiet Friday. Lots of writing, which in this case means lots of fantasy. Being snuggled into the couch with a velvety throw blanket and the fireplace crackling makes it easy to slip into the euphoria…
Boob Day: Cleavage for Days
Friday again, folks. You know what that means … Boob Day strikes again. Time to flaunt ’em, share ’em, love ’em and appreciate ’em.
BoobDay: Tits and Tennessee Williams’ thoughts on writers
“…most writers, and most other artists, too, are primarily motivated in their desperate vocation by a desire to find and to separate truth from the complex of lies and evasions they live in, and I think that this impulse is what makes their work not so much a profession as a vocation, a true calling.”…
Boob Day: Too Much
I’m forever too much and still never quite enough.