I am Tenderly Lucky

Actually. I was until my boyfriend opened his mouth.

He bought me breakfast in bed.

We made love, and it was lovely.

And I was dreaming about that sentence:

" I am tenderly lucky," and how light and

all everything it was.  I got up to put it

down on this blog.  Just the title.  And he

walks in.  He starts to talk to me and then

I ask him if he could let me be for 5 minutes

to do this.  He speaks only French.  I can't think

in English if he is speaking French to me.  And so

he belittles the blog with one sentence.  Knowing

that I am not writing poetry right now because we

have a house that we are building.  Knowing that it

is rare indeed that I write at all.  

But he just can't shut his mouth.

In my heart I know he is good.

In my heart I know he is mean, as well.

I am a sensitive girl.

Now what was going to be an interesting and

joyful blogpost, is a shitty blog post.

Thank you.

Boyfriend.