ADYTUM is what the Greeks called a secret hiding place. I am sitting under a huge pine in the ravine. There is a smell of sap and the branches dip down to the ground on all sides, casting long dark shadows.
The light falling through the needles is the light of daydreams. If secrets had color they would probably be this same deep marine, shot through with visionary gleams.
"Not all sunshine," he says, and then runs his thumb in a gentle stroke along the arch of my eyebrow. He's the kind of person who would know the technical reasons for a rainbow, the square roots of peculiar numbers, how to gather water from the cupped leaves of island plants. Someone you'd like to have with you on a lifeboat.
im ready for spring/summer in a major way. new boys, new love, new dresses, new hugs, champagne, lazy days in the park, coming home at sunrise, mint ice tea . . all of it.