steering the stars

I walked home under a moon that hung so low it looked like it was leaning against the treetops. Dinner tonight was with my friend Hope, an American editor who is--oh, I can't tell you how much of a relief it is to talk to her. It's intense--we share deeply personal stories and problems and listen, really listen to each other, and god, it makes me feel cleaner and lighter and like I can walk tall, no problem, right into the fucking sky.

On that note, I love:

new moons and full moons and falling stars; the ocean, the ocean (home, home, home); wood anemones; kittens; cuddling; shakespeare and stoppard and both the dylans; oak trees (especially the one near our apartment that is split so I can fit into its trunk); kitty; bravery; stubborn bitches; words and sounds and rhythm and vowels; werewolves; novels about any kind of magic; the light in the summer; music (that word holds a whole universe for me); kissing; vienna teng's voice; the world (no, really); and you, yeah, you. ♥