She can't take her eyes off his hair, and must force herself to pull her hand away once they stop kissing to take a breath. It's the softest she's ever touched, melting between her fingers, darkness needing to be held. He's thinking of growing it back, longer than the lock that falls just shy of his eyes, shoulder-length perhaps, or far down his back again.

She mumbles self-consciously about her own hair, still the same after seven years, and his fingers run through the near stubble, stiff half curls bleached blonder than the sun.

"Don't change," he whispers. "It's beautiful."

So, today, I had occasion to think about my own opposite.
She's evil and skanky...no word on the "kinda gay" but I wouldn't rule it out.
Sometimes I think there is an opposite inside of me. She thrusts her hand out for the nice things she knows are her due, and she has to fight the urge to perfume and admire herself(She doesn’t fight that hard.) She would eat cake for breakfast every day and when told about some suffering farmer in some distant clime thinks that’s his tough luck for having dirt under his nails. She’s never been in love but has plenty of good times. It’s easy when she looks this good.She knows she will die young and leave a good looking corpse, and she knows that is enough. She knows nothing straight is ever as good as stoned and she has left her underwear places she can’t remember.(And, no, she doesn’t care to have them back. Give the boy a thrill, whoever he was. No skin off her back.) In High school she was voted “Most Likely to Drink Champagne out Of The Cat Dish”It’s not as great as it sounds. No, it is...just kidding. She’s never worried about anything for longer than it took her basecoat to dry.

counterparts

In the morning he wakes, lets out the dog, answers his mail. I sleep late, reluctant to emerge, set the teapot boiling. He never drinks hot drinks, has Coke for breakfast. I open the drapes, sunlight streaming across the floors. He closes them again to watch tv.

He would fill his day with people and conversation. I would lock the doors, open the library bag, crank up the tunes. He's not so much a fan; he can't hear the music without doing the math, critiquing. But he plays, and I write, and we are together, and we are the same.

I *so* need these earrings.

Steph, go to Michaels or AC Moore and buy earring hooks. Take typing paper, cut it to twice the size of the pages you need, fold in half and staple, so you have a book. Use ivory stationery if you prefer, and scissors that cut a deckle edge. Cut a piece of shirt cardboard slightly larger than your pages. Back the cardboard with pretty giftwrap, using spray adhesive, fold and attach the cardboard to your pages with either hot glue or fabric craft glue. Bingo!

If you don't want to bother, promise me you won't buy those and I'll make you a pair.

Okay, now that I've gone back and actually read the text rather than just glimpsing the item, I see that they're a fundraiser for a very worthy cause. Forget what I said--buy them! Buy a couple of sets! I may buy a pair myself.

I see that they're a fundraiser for a very worthy cause. Forget what I said--buy them! Buy a couple of sets! I may buy a pair myself.

Yeah, I'd try to make them (maybe), but the fact that these particular ones go toward getting kids books of their own is a plus for me.

Going to post a between drabbles song lyric. It's brand new, needs some work, so I'm open to input. Mostly I want to know how it scans for you. And it's <gasp> a pop song. So.

cop sunglasses

your smile is just like cop sunglasses, yes that is
what your smile is just like, cop sunglasses, yes
your smile is just like cop sunglasses, yes, that is
what your smile is just like

i know i'm in for trouble
when i see that smile start to bubble
up i go ahead and blow the hatches
out i float the tanks 'cause that smile is matchless

yes, your smile is just like cop sunglasses, yes, that is
what your smile is just like, it's like cop sunglasses
your smile is just like cop sunglasses, yes, that is
what your smile is just like

you lay it out like ammunition
when things get cagey or your reputation's
down on the line then you sound the alarm and it clicks
in place on your face like you flicked a switch

yes, your smile is just like cop sunglasses, that is
what your smile is just like, cop sunglasses yes
your smile is just like cop sunglasses, yes, that is
what your smile is just like

New topic? Monday? I didn't see it listed in the livejournal community pages.

I don't know...we seem to have switched to Tuesday.

Sorry! We haven't switched to Tuesday; I've just gotten into a bad habit of slacking.

Challenge #44 (opposites) is closed.

Challenge #45 takes its lead from the holiday; the topic is heart. In any sense that you choose.