what if, at some point before, you and i had stood at the top of a great cliff? and looking down, we would see waiting the earthly life we had yet to live. but supposing, that they hadn't told us that we could jump together, but once we reached the bottom, we wouldn't begin it together? that part of the wonder of our love was that we would have an adventure in finding each other again? that to give us more story, we would be separated, and that part of the fun of the jumping off was that we would have the surprise and the joy and the wonder of reuniting.

i think we did.

and that's why i'm so bewildered by cliffs. because i haven't always stood there alone.

that might be why i feel like my right side is always empty.

The March and April Editions

god and don't you remember black-lined stockings? those dark tights, or maybe not-so-dark, with that obvious black line up your calf. you hoped you had great legs, hoped that those dark lines emphasized and drew attention in the best way. the only problem was that you had to keep those lines straight, damn it all. adjusting, readjusting. that was the real test of your sexiness, how straight your lines were....

and above all, i just love photography. well not above all. but above fashion, that's for damn sure. and none of that messy shit, either. but nothing contrived--nothing stilted. but damn! don't tell me... that girls never brush their hair like that, or that they actually wear green lipstick. or if they do--don't try to sell me that they're comfortable that way. and how do they feel in the morning? when everything is smeared to the right, when those low-slung pants are riding their ass-crack? it can't be comfortable. there's something to be said for stretching out and feeling like the only constriction is how close the line is between shadow and sun...

can we please stop pretending that boys are girls and that real men like feeling like a woman?