I less than 3 you
Happy 2021! Vika and I have been doing this (sound on):
2020 was a shit year for a lot of us. (And 2019, too! My stars.) Here’s hoping your year is off to a better start.
It sure is for me and not just because I enjoy saying “Madam Vice President.”
I try to not think in terms of years—hence, why I haven’t done a New Year’s resolution since my ill-fated 2009 attempt to watch every Colin Firth movie in existence. Years are mammoths. They contain too many meanwhiles.
Instead, I try to think in moments. Small mercies. Ordinary devotion (as Maggie Nelson wrote about in The Argonauts.) The everyday acts of kindness that will never go viral or make headlines, but nevertheless keep us going a few steps further down the dusty road.
To that end, I wanted to say thank you. I’ve never met a great many of you “in real life” (whatever that even is anymore) and yet your words, our brief or funny or intimate exchanges, even just the fact that you open and read these words once a month, all of these things are a balm to me, a stubborn gladness in the “ruthless furnace of this world,” as Jack Gilbert put it.
So, thank you. I’m grateful for you and wish you every stubborn gladness the world has to offer (or that you take yourself in spite of it all).
My girlfriend made me create an Etsy store (she says “encouraged—gently!”) and I have 2 items in there now!
Said in haiku form:
If you need a V-
Day gift, consider lez sex
haikus to get laid.
I have been slowly amassing erotica stories and plan to put them in one place and self-publish them as a collection in March or April. Before I do that, I’m hoping to get 5 beta readers (aka first readers) to offer some feedback. I’m happy to read yours as well, if you want to make it a trade.
If you’re interested, shoot me an email.
PPS: Love Poem (by Denise Levertov)
What you give me is
the extraordinary sun
splashing its light
into astonished trees.
of berries, swaying
under the feet of a bird.
other joys—they taste
bitter, distilled as they are
from roots, yet I thirst for them.
you give me
the flash of golden daylight
in the body's
warmth of the fall noonday
between the sheets in the dark.