by Tiffany J Z
Rated: E · Other · Biographical · #1152318
The second in a series of morning pages that may one day grow up to be a book.
|The sun rises in the east, as with any day. The brilliant orb wakes and clocks in right on time , with or without a single witness to it's punctuality and diligence.|
I was neither awake nor witness to the movement of the morning's messenger... No, today I tended to dreams well into the day. The oneiric world needs due attention too, else the waking world may shatter.
Though casual with entrance into the day, here at a quarter past one with my first coffee and cigarette I am still graced by someone who's relation to time and the sun is perhaps more arbitrary than my own. Here at my morning post with all of the proper inventory in stock, I am delighted to look up from the black wrought iron cafe table to see Marilyn Monroe doing the "walk of shame".
This corner, the one of my morning retreat, waking ritual and Sunday Alms seems to be a merging point. A place where worlds meet, where trannys get cat called, young mothers lift children out of stollers for kisses, Marilyn Monroe walks barefoot across the street carrying last night's dancing shoes and shawl. I wake up here to my sweet sweet man. He comes to meet me, place his beautiful succulent lips upon mine and we will plot our venture into the rest of the day... Perhaps we shall head west on the sun's good word.