Me, the boxed version. Condensed for your safety.

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Who I am.
Nekkid twirling, swirling daisy fairy girl skipping and tripping barefoot through mud, blue glass, hearts and chocolate.... I am lazily eager, inspired and sleeping most of the time. I will eat anything. Play the guitar for me and I am yours. I like boys who are gentlemen and girls who are a little more raw and not scared of me. I come from wild hippy free flowing amazingly brilliant and wonderful parents. I was born in a barn on eighty acres of trees and daisies. Coming out, I was early, backwards and not breathing... I make up for it now. I have been everywhere and still nowhere somehow. Quiet. Analytical. Emotional. Passionate. Sensual. Raw. Alive. Bruised. Wanderer. Spontaneous. Maternal. Hungry. Dreamer. Playful. Tree-hugger. Tree-climber. Mud wrestler. I love my dog. I've been told I smell like playdough. I look like my mom. I moisturize with olive oil. I am secretly ... Look me in the eyes and I will tell you anything. I fall in love every day.
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What i like.
Love and flipflops in your belly, cooking, eating, dancing in the sun, making love in the rain, laughing at the moon, poetry, painted art, photography, naked toes, girl bodies, mom and pop shops, claw-foot bathtubs, warm thunderstorms, bonfires, mittens sparkling with snow, the scent of hay in the air, weeping willows, hail, the harmonica, love letters, wishes made on shooting stars and dandelion fluff, redefining "family", subway musicians, park benches, yellow kitchens, lilacs, dew laced cobwebs, crumbling brick, old crushes that never die, malbec and albarino and gewrztraminer, fireworks, picnics, catching the scent before the sight of flowers, innertubing, chocolate, sardines, snails, sushi, hayfields, the smell of melting butter and garlic, hands, anticipation, full cups, baby foreheads, really big hugs, silence, forgetting to breathe then remembering, breasts, echoes, sitting alone staring at the masses, swooning, spooning, making meatballs with my grandpa, hand formed mugs, getting rid of everything I own...again and again, the idea of being a 'regular' somewhere, listening to someone else's heartbeat, summer-blonde body hair, the taste of another's smile, earth, pictures in the clouds, lullabies, wrinkles, clean sheets, fire, nag champa, laughter, the yellow of grain, echoes, naked walks on sunny days, mud puddles, my dog's dirty feet, pretty people snoring, leftovers, good oatmeal stout, the golden hour, being in love, the eager anticipation of mouths meeting then kissing until you fall down.

© 2007 - 2024 betceemay
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rml-stock's avatar
This is such a beautifully carefree way to embrace all that is wonderful in life.

I'll admit, I gasped a little at one phrase. Someone once asked me what the favorite thing about my wife was. I said "the taste of her smile". Glad I am not the only one who appreciates the flavor of happiness.

Keep living, loving, and inspiring.