Guest Posts · Lil Mama's Love Letters

Invisible Ink: a Guest Post by Christy Anna Beguins

“and Anna begins to fade away.”
~Counting Crows, “Anna Begins

I think I’m going to stop writing about you.
It’s not like you ever read my work anyway.
Not like it ever truly mattered to you.
Or I ever mattered.
To you.

I always wanted you to read. You knew this. And you would hold out your not-reading as a carrot, dangling just out of reach, waiting to see if I would jump for your attention.

You always wanted me to ask you. I knew this. And I would hold out my not-asking as withheld attention, waiting to see if you would ask me first to ask you. Me, steadfast in my stubbornness in my unasking.

If I have to ask you to read my words, my emotions, my self poured on paper,
is it real?

If I have to ask you if you love me,
is it real?

If love is given only as a response to an appeal,
is it real?

Do my words cease to exist if you don’t read them?
Do my emotions cease to exist if you don’t feel them?
Do I cease to exist if you don’t reach for me?
Do my exclamations revelations confessions of love disappear
If they don’t reach your ears?

Did I ever truly forgive you?
Did I ever even try?
I said I did. But what if you never heard me?
Did my forgiveness cease to exist?
I said I did. But what if I was lying?
Only seeing if you believed me?
If I believed me?
If I could believe myself into forgiveness?

Do I have to forgive in order to love? Or do I have to love
for forgiveness to even be possible? *

Was my love ever real?
Were we?
It’s been so long I’m beginning to believe I made you up.
That I painted my watercolor love with invisible ink across your charcoal heart.
If I can make you up, can’t I make you disappear?
I can erase the charcoal.
I can dilute the watercolor until it runs clear.

I’m so tired of agonizing over words.
Words you won’t even read.
Tired of revising revamping rephrasing.
When you don’t even care.

When there are others who do.

If you wrote, don’t you know I would pour over your words?
Stalk your sentences?
Hunt for hidden messages?
Some sort of sign of love of hate of lust of insanity
of any emotion at all.
Don’t you know I would want to know what was going on in your head?
What kept you awake at night?
What you held so close and tight to your chest that the only way you could release it was to hide it in poetry and layers and lyrics?

You always needed things. Needed tokens. Needed claiming, like someone’s coat.
And, funny, all I wanted was you.

And you kept asking me how to a question I had answered a thousand times before.
Until I caught on.
You just wanted me to ask.
So you could deny me.
So you could pretend you weren’t listening.
So you could win this game that only you knew the rules to.

I’m done playing.

I should go back and rearrange this.
Make it poetic.
Make it make sense.
But I won’t.
Because this is me.
And I’m not poetic. Not really.
And I don’t make sense. Not really.
Not when it comes to you.
Not when it comes to love.
I don’t know how to write love letters.
Not in permanent ink.

Besides, why should I care?
These are words you’ll never read.
These are words that will cease to exist.
These are penciled love poems that time will erase.

These pieces of me are already fading away.

I wrote our story in invisible ink.
There’s nothing left to read.
No words to erase.
We were never here.


Robert Rauschenberg, Erased de Kooning Drawing, 1953. Via
Robert Rauschenberg, Erased de Kooning Drawing, 1953. Via


* These two lines are from “Poplar Street” by Chen Chen.


“I Don’t Remember Loving You” by John Conlee


Christy Anna Beguins

Christy and Spot
Christy and Spot

I’m beyond thrilled to feature a piece written by my blogger bestie. I’ll finish my fan-girl gushing at the end because I want you to hear more from her first.

An excerpt from her “about page” at Anna Beguins.

This is my place to write and experiment with poetry, photography, fiction, and other stuff that I have no business writing or experimenting with. But that has never stopped me before.

“I am not worried, I am not overly concerned.”

Some of this will be truth, some will be fiction. Most will likely be a mixture of both.

“Wrap her up in a package of lies, send her off to a coconut island…
I’m sure there’s something in a shade of gray or something in between”

Some of you know me as Christy, some of you are meeting me as Anna Beguins. I guess that makes me Christy Anna Beguins. My pen name, like my writing, is part truth, part fiction.

“I can always change my name if that’s what you mean”

And, yes, I love early Counting Crows. “Anna Begins” is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard. The lyrics. Sigh. The lyrics. If you get it, you understand, even if you don’t get it, you still understand.

“Every word is nonsense but I understand”

I’m Anna, this is my beginning, and these are the things I try to tell myself to make myself forget–and sometimes to make myself remember–before I fade away and disappear.

“Oh lord I’m not ready for this sort of thing”


You’d think the adjectives and flowery verbs would flow from the keyboard, but Christy has struck me speechless. I am beyond grateful and humbled that she agreed to share this personal and poignant “not really a love letter” with us. Think of the people you have loved, who have influenced you–inspired you. What do you say to those people? How can “thank you” ever be enough?

Christy and I “met” in 2013 not long after I started writing. From the beginning, we clicked and bonded over dogs, Daryl Dixon, and frosting right out of the can. It’s no surprise that this talented writer has been published multiple times in addition to being Freshly Pressed. She writes and curates for multiple sites, and is heading up a new team-writing project at The Lovely Fire.

She has given me wings, and second chances. In addition to my husband, she’s believed in me the many times I didn’t. Christy has gently pushed me to write beyond my safe spaces, and has remained the voice of reason when I get distracted by the next shiny object.  She was the FRIST person I wrote a guest post for, and now she and Cayman are coaxing me into the land of fiction and poetry. Christy is genuine and kind, and my life is better because she is in it.

Thank you again, dear friend, for sharing your words with us. I can’t wait to have you back–I’ll bake a cakexo

Christy and Sadie-girl
Christy and Sadie


Lil Mama’s Love Letters: “Stop Drop and Love Letter was inspired by a love-letterscombination of our affinity for love letters and the beauty of discovering something wonderful and unexpected in the world.

I’m hopeless romantic without a poet’s quill. Start with Nicole’s inspiration, and let your love show. Do you have a love letter penned in your heart? To a child? A parent? Your adoring spouse? The one who got away? Whether it’s to someone in your life now, or someone who used to be – write to them and seal it with a kiss in this space. They never have to know…unless you want them to.

Programming note: In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’m accepting submissions for Love Letters through January for February publication. Please send via the Submit page. I will be away from my blog and inbox January 1-10, but will review submissions and respond after January 11.

Be creative! Share your love–let us see your heart. I double-dog dare you.


ETA: just testing

87 thoughts on “Invisible Ink: a Guest Post by Christy Anna Beguins

    1. You.
      Oh my goodness, Michelle. Seems we are both leaving each other speechless. It’s a good thing we can read each others’ minds. Words are so unnecessary, and yet, they are what we have–no matter what ink we use to paint them.
      Like I said, we were destined to become friends.
      For you, I would paint my love across the sky with a glow-in-the-dark neon pink Sharpie. Permanent ink, baby.
      Love you like the sun, and like the frist and last spoon of frosting, -christy

      Liked by 1 person

      1. “Words are so unnecessary, and yet, they are what we have–no matter what ink we use to paint them.”
        Yep. Nailed it. This feeling, this essence was wafting through my brain as I fumbled with the meager paragraphs I wrote to try to describe our friendship. Even my poor hubby who scratches his head sometimes at my bloggy world understands what you mean to me. I was hoping that if he could read my mind, then it would be a piece of cake for you.
        Mmmm….cake. xo

        Liked by 1 person

  1. We just got back from a vacation in the mountains and while we were there I asked my 7 year old, “If a tree falls in the woods and there’s no one to hear it, does it make a sound?” “Of course it does,” he replied and then began to support his answer. This reminds me of that question and the many ways it can be answered. It’s funny because I was thinking recently that there are so many people in my life that I wished were bloggers because then I’d know what was in their heads! This is so thought provoking and real and typical fabulous Christy. Much love! ❤ xxoo

    Liked by 3 people

    1. “Of course it does.” What a wise son you have, Karen. One of those things we can’t prove, that we have to take on faith.
      I remember how we talked about stepping away from the camera lens and trying to live life more in 3D. That we can still take the photos in our minds. Our memory saves them. Though may distort them in time. The key is the distortion, how we choose to remember–or not–that which we cared so much to take a photo of in the first place.
      Always love your comments and how much they make me think.
      You are like a beautiful spunky Yoda, you are.
      Love, xoxoc

      Liked by 2 people

    2. Dear Karen,
      I appreciate you more than you know.

      It’s funny because I was thinking recently that there are so many people in my life that I wished were bloggers because then I’d know what was in their heads!

      How I read this the first time: “then I’d know I was in their heads.” And I did an inward holler, and said YES! I know, right? Then, I read it again and thought, “Oh yes. That, too” 🙂
      Letting you both in on a secret. I dislike being the center of attention or talking about myself–it makes me squiggly (Christy’s word!) I get squeamish when self-promotion is involved. If you see me sharing my bloggy stuff on my personal Facebook page, it’s for one of two reasons A) I’m trying to build that blasted platform or B) There’s a non-blogger I want to reach. Usually, it’s B 🙂
      Cash is a wise, young man. Wonder what he says about a bear in the woods 😉

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Love the Counting Crows so I had to look up the song “Anna Begins”. I wasn’t familiar with this one.
    Love the post!! The words are very poignant and mean the same to me… Thank you for introducing us to “Christy Anna Beguins” She is awesome! (of course) just like you Michelle! 😉

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Courtney, hi! And thanks so much for saying hi and for your sweet words. “Anna Begins” is from their first album “August and Everything After”…so many great songs on that, but Anna will always be my favorite. Adam has done some beautiful live renditions of it too; I have two over at my Anna site (one on the about page, one in the footer), which I saw you followed–thank you! So nice to connect, I’ll drop by to say hi later. -c

      Sent from my iPhone


      Liked by 2 people

    2. Hi Courtney!
      I couldn’t agree more – CAB rocks! Christy is solely responsible for broadening my reading and music habits. She is a walking encyclopedia of gorgeous words and song lyrics. I’m so glad you got to read her today – she’s truly amazing…as are you 🙂

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Marissa, hi, and thank you. I was a little nervous, since I told Michelle “this isn’t really a love letter.” But she gently reminded me that love letters come in all shapes and sizes and formats, and referenced your earlier piece here as validation.

      You’re so kind to comment, and I appreciate you greatly. Looking forward to getting to know you, Christy

      Sent from my iPhone



      1. I wrote for Michelle before I knew that one of her requests was for love letters and absolutely knew that that was what this was. I don’t know if it said anything about it being a love letter but I didn’t read it. I went straight for the meat and potatoes, ha, ha!
        Anyway, looking forward to getting to know you too!

        Liked by 2 people

    2. SQUEEE!!! Two of my favorite poets in one spot. I.Cant.Even.
      You kicked this category off with your wicked wonderful twist on the love letter. I’m hopeful you’ll be willing to add another to mix. Marissa and Valentine’s Day? It’s a perfect match 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I KNEW you’d love her. She is fun, witty, and amazing all at once. I call her my Monday morning fix because I always have a set of her poems waiting in my inbox each Monday. Lots of favorites!

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Its very strange reading this poem about not being read. I was thinking just yesterday about several people who were in my life, romantically and otherwise, who did not really know me (and,so, a part of why they did not stay) because they never read my writing or things I had read that shaped me. As in this story, I could not push it on them, ask it of them, or demand it of them. How can love, when real, not be curious, not hunger to know the secret places, or the flights of fancy? I don’t know. Thank you, Christy Anna and MMT for sharing.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. This: “How can love, when real, not be curious, not hunger to know the secret places, or the flights of fancy?” This is beautiful and sums up the essence of my “not really a love letter.”

      That curious hunger is what we crave. It’s such a lovely paradox, because those we want to read our work (which “our work” is synonymous with “us”) are the very people we would filter our content with if we knew they were reading, the way we filter ourselves around them in the day to day.

      So that want, that curious hunger, can sometimes be enough to allow us to slowly begin writing pieces of ourselves in permanent ink and to boldly give those letters to those whose love we believe and trust. But if that want is not there to begin with, how could we ever trust that love?

      So grateful for your comment, thank you. Christy

      Sent from my iPhone


      Liked by 2 people

      1. “That curious hunger is what we crave. It’s such a lovely paradox, because those we want to read our work (which “our work” is synonymous with “us”) are the very people we would filter our content with if we knew they were reading, the way we filter ourselves around them in the day to day.”

        More goosebumps…

        Liked by 1 person

    2. Your words sent chills up my back. People who don’t really know us because they don’t read our writing.
      I’ve had the opposite happen as well. My dad once said, “I feel like I finally am getting to know you. I never knew you had all of that inside of you.”
      So, when I read Christy’s poem, it made me yearn for all of the people who I wished knew me like that, too…romantic or otherwise. Christy has a fantastic attitude of trusting the Universe on things like these. If something is meant to be read by somebody, then it will be. I just want everyone to read Christy’s work – amazing how her words can strike a different chord in each of us. I love it!
      Thank you so much for stopping by – I love seeing you here 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  4. As a rule I don’t read poetry… it doesn’t speak to me. My brain just isn’t wired that way. But this… this I get. I have had this very conversation and must admit… that over time, I have been on both sides of this page and have yet to win either argument.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Tegon,
      I used to feel the same way about poetry. I read Shel Silverstein, Emily Dickinson, and Dr. Suess. Those habits changed when I met Christy. She introduced me to Mary Oliver, and I never been the same since. One of pages she curates for, Words for the Year, contain some of the best writing ever–there are some truly talented poets in our midst.
      I love that this spoke to you…Christy has that knack. Thank you for stopping by today. 🙂


    2. I tend to write poetry the way I like to read it…conversational in tone, a few pretty phrases thrown in, not too deep or intellectual or focused on form or syllables. Rather focused on emotion and feeling, where I can either relate to it, or feel the emotions the writer was trying to purge. Sometimes I like poems that help me see a subject in a different light (Mary Oliver is excellent at that). I rarely like poems that hurt my brain or that I have to read ten times just to understand. It’s such a shame that those haughty poets and confusing poems have scared away so many readers. (One of my passions is sharing meaningful and accessible poetry with others, in case you couldn’t tell, haha.) 🙂

      You’ve given me one of the best compliments a poet can receive, and I appreciate it so very much. Thank you, christy


  5. It’s so wonderful you two have connected like this. Anna’s poem is wonderful, and thanks to this post, I now know about her other blog which I’ve just followed. I can be a little slow on the uptake when it comes to bloggers’ other sites :/

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi Carrie,
      Christy has always been a ‘connector’ for me. She’s led me to so many great writers, bloggers, poets, and people. She has this innate ability to understand what makes people tick and who will click. It’s no surprise that she led me right over to you, too 🙂
      Thanks for always taking the time to stop and read. Anna’s site is downright amazing writing–today’s beautiful entry is just a taste.
      Have a great rest of the week!

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Hi Carrie, thanks for your nice comment! Oh don’t worry about being “a little slow”…I never really publicized the Anna site. I’m just hiding it out there in plain sight. I went through such an identity crisis with Running on Sober, because I wanted to expand my writing and experiment with different forms, but I didn’t want to do it in front of so many people who followed me for memoir and personal essays. So I set up the new place to play, gave it a very quick mention, and then didn’t worry about it much.
      It’s not always pretty, and it’s not always even particularly good, and it’s definitely not everyone’s cup of tea…so don’t feel obligated… 😉
      Hope you had a great Christmas with the guys. You’ll like my theme “Word for the Year” 🙂 I’ll be writing about it at RoS in a couple weeks. -c


  6. Beautifully written Christy. I look at it and see a search for self. Touches those things within that most times we dare not ask ourselves, but know we must.
    But it is a journey that we all must touch or forever stay stagnant.
    We will all read this, nod our heads and see the pain in your words that at some time we have experienced within ourselves. Swear that we will change this, but be forever kept in fear of losing something if we do.
    Thank you, a great share.
    And thank you Michelle, you have shared a great friend 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. And Mark, for some reason you have made me cry. Not in a bad way. But in a “Wow, he has really touched on something” way, one of those sensitive reflexive trigger points that we all have, but that we keep hidden and covered up. And you zeroed right in on it. Wow.

      There *is* a lot of pain and confusion, a lot of sadness, some fear, some anger, a lot of regret in these words. And even though I say it’s not really a love letter, there’s a lot of love in here too.

      I’m touched deeply that you saw all of that.
      Thank-you. Truly. -christy

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I think that is why you ‘spoke’ it out loud on here. You were coming from a very deep place, and that is why it has touched so many. A truth from the heart has great power, and allows a healing like no other.
        It is in standing in the truth of all your journeys that allow you to release the pain and move forward, hence why you expressed it here, and no doubt in other posts on your blog.
        Thank you for sharing such a beautiful place within, I am very flattered that you have spoken from a place that most (at times), find difficult to express, and has now allowed you to see something that only you can truly understand…and release.
        To ‘know’ love, is to understand your pain. It is in accepting yourself ‘truthfully’ within by going through it.
        May it bring healing and love Christy, for they both go hand in hand. Namaste

        Liked by 2 people

    2. Mark, You are blessed with the gift of sight, of empathy. Michelle and I have talked often about this “knowing,” often calling it a sixth sense. When we meet someone else who shares this, it’s as if another puzzle piece falls into place, I can feel an actual “click.” Sounds odd to most people I imagine, but I think you’ll know exactly what I mean.

      “To ‘know’ love, is to understand your pain. It is in accepting yourself ‘truthfully’ within by going through it.” Reminds me of a favorite Mary Oliver poem that speaks right to my core:

      The Uses of Sorrow

      (In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

      Someone I loved once gave me
      a box full of darkness.

      It took me years to understand

      that this, too, was a gift.

      (by Mary Oliver, from Thirst, Beacon Press, Boston, 2006)


      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you kind lady, and it is a ‘connection’ because it can only be felt by those who have ‘been there’. We relate to people who have has similar experiences.
        My ‘clicks’ stopped, but the energy level has increased, and as you have said, it is a ‘knowing’ that I now feel. From what I understand, there are many gifts….sight, hearing, knowing, all coming from that acceptance and opening of who we all are within 🙂
        And I love that ‘box full of darkness’ verse, that perfectly describes our journey of pain, and then the discovery of light on the other side. All given with great love so that WE can find that love within too. A gift beyond measure 🙂
        I feel a post coming on, spirit wants me to explain something 🙂
        Thank you for your lovely words Christy (and Michelle 🙂 ), I look forward to ‘seeing’ your blog. Namaste

        Liked by 2 people

  7. Holy Wow! That was awesome, Christy. I love how open it was. At times, I felt like your words were mine in how I feel about putting my books out to the world. “If I have to ask you to read my words, my emotions, my self poured on paper, is it real?” Felt that…deep in my heart. Good job. And that little pic of you and Spot…brought a little tear to my eye. Miss our puppies.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Char, hi! Thank you so much for reading and for commenting. You are so right, I bet that having ENTIRE BOOKS filled with your own words and your own thoughts straight from your head and heart is such a vulnerable and scary thing (even fiction because one thing I’m finding from playing with fiction is that it’s so easy to hide bits and pieces of our true selves in it BECAUSE it’s fiction and it feels safer and we can deny it even to ourselves…does that make sense?). But then having to do PR and ask people not only to read, but to buy…and then the responses “I’m going to read… someday” Oh goodness it’s just so jumbled and complicated and how can we not take any of it personally? And yet… I totally feel you.

      I sent Michelle a handful of photos…I had no idea which one she would use. When I checked the post this morning and saw sweet little Spotsy, I did tear up a little too. But then I saw Sadie, and couldn’t help but smile. These blasted little furbabies…so much love squeezed into such short lives.

      Hope you had a peaceful and happy Christmas, Char. Thanks for your friendship, Love, christy

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You are a sweetheart. I had a wonderful Christmas, even while fighting a nasty cold. Had all my kids home and a granddog (that was a wee bit wild, but he was so cute I forgave him his rambunctiousness). Hope yours was awesome as well.


      2. It was a lovely Christmas. Quiet and cozy and a balmy 73 degrees. Hope the cold goes away quickly! May be too late now, but stay loaded up on Vitamin C, zinc and echinacea to ward off future colds. “Gypsy Cold Care” tea by Traditional Medicinals is good. Tulsi tea is good tea if you like a little spice.

        Sent from my iPhone



    2. Oh, the puppies….I had thought about only using the Sadie picture because I didn’t want anybody sad. But personally, I think Spot is a big part of Christy’s voice and warranted a place on this page. Of course, Sadie girl needed to be here, too because she’s just so darned photogenic 😉
      *Waves to Christy – don’t mean to talk about you like you aren’t here!!

      Your comment sent a nice little gut-punch my way, Char. I had never internalized how deeply personal it must be to put an entire book out for the world to see. You are a brave, wonderful woman and so blessed to call you a friend. Xoxox

      Liked by 1 person

      1. *Waves back to Michelle, and says, “Well this *is* your blog.” LOL.

        You picked the perfect pictures. As I knew you would.

        As often as I go back and forth on old posts, private/open, private/open, private/open, I would be a nervous wreck to put a book out there. Eeek. I get the shivers just thinking about it!

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Seeing Spot made me smile as I swiped at that tear, so thanks. I loved Christy’s Spot. All of our words (whether on blogs, comments, or books) have a piece of us in them…so it’s all personal. That’s why we need to duct tape the hands and mouths of haters. Hee hee. Duct tape fixes everything.

        Liked by 2 people

  8. Call me a recent convert to Christy’s writing, having just learned about her in the last couple of weeks. It’s pretty amazing how much the things I’ve read of her since strike a lot of chords for me.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I loved loved loved this, too Susan.
      Isn’t it amazing how something so personal can strike such a chord in each of us?
      Love seeing you here, my friend. I know you had once expressed an interest in submitting a piece – my door is open any time. Xo

      Liked by 2 people

    2. Susan ❤
      Wanna hear something funny? When I was reading your comment, I read it like this:
      "Badges? We don't need no stinking badges!"
      "Approval?! I don't need no stinking approval!" 😀

      Ah, we don't NEED it, but it's hard to fight that craving for it, that desire simply to be understood.

      Thank you so much for reading and for "hearing" me. xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

    3. YES! YES! YES!
      So happy to read that you’ll be sharing here too! A love letter, too!

      You know what I really hope to read in February here?

      A love letter to to one’s self.

      I have something else in mind to share, so maybe someone will read this and run with the idea. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  9. Hehehe a FRIST of yours, huh? Well GOOD! Loving your series, Michelle, and I promise to write you soon, of red thread, love, and more Muricans.

    Wonderfully evocative poetry here, though. Christy/Anna – you’ve very neatly summed up the messy sameness experienced by oh-too-many writers as we hope to be understood by those who profess to love us, but somehow don’t…not quite enough to read our hearts. It called up bad memories and good reasons for my Now. Thank you 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Dear Lizzi,
      I was hoping to see you here – I thought you’d appreciate the depth and breadth of Christy’s words. The both of you have different styles, but I feel a thread of familiar nuance in your themes. I’m so grateful to you both.
      And yes…the Red Thread – I am so looking forward to your piece. No hurry (that’s my theme for the 2016) – I have 12 months to fill with beautiful words by my lovely friends.
      I hope you had a wonderful and blessed Christmas…leaving you a message today (once I get my WhatsApp working again).
      Love you! Xoxoxoxo

      Liked by 1 person

    2. Lizzi, hi! ❤
      We're a strange lot, aren't we? We don't want anyone to read our personal private diaries, and yet we get our feelings hurt when we realize someone doesn't even WANT to.

      It's a selfish realization, but in chatting with Mark above, I realize it's also a gift. The gift of self-awareness, of self-examination (Why does this bother me? Should it? Is this really a big deal? Am I making a big deal out of it for nothing? Ah, but what does this represent? Why do I not care if "he" doesn't read, but I feel like a kicked puppy when "she" doesn't want to.) Definitely a lot deeper than I'd initially thought.

      I was going to apologize for dredging up those bad memories, but in keeping with the whole self-awareness thing, I won't. 🙂 I'm glad my piece evoked emotion in you (good, bad, otherwise), because it showed you that you made good choices and that where you are now, is exactly where you are supposed to be. ❤

      Happy to read you'll be posting here again! Yay!

      Liked by 3 people

  10. Wow!

    I know what you mean about being struck speechless. Christy’s nouns have a dance to them that mesmerizes and her verbs have an uppercut that will knock you on your ass. She’s all that.

    I’m on my way out the door and this was a much needed energy boost.


    Yes, I bookended my wows, in keeping with the prose.

    Love and peace

    Liked by 2 people

  11. 2016… among other things, I set an intention to read and write (for public consumption, anyway), and this is the first place I land.

    No coincidences. Exactly what I needed to read! The question you pose,

    If love is given only in response to an appeal, is it real?

    Is a current ongoing issue for me right now.

    As my kids say… the struggle is real.

    So even though I’m about as far from a poet as you’ll ever meet, boy can I relate to this one!

    And now, the new question rumbling around my brain…

    Is it Christy?

    Is it Anna?

    I still think of you every. single. time…. I get on a treadmill 🙂

    Happy new year to Christy AND Anna… and Michelle, you too! Looking forward to reading more in 2016!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I would agree…though me picking a favorite of yours is like picking a favorite child. While I don’t remember the exact titles, I remember the themes and snippets of your words: Leaves, A Woman of Moderation, the one about your mom’s purse, turkeys, Spot, cornflakes, oranges, a murder of dark hair, SO SO much more. xo


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