first snow

the up-swing, the down-pour, the frayed sleeve
of the first snow—

so the gods shake us from our sleep.

i've been contemplating for what seems like eternities (rather endless days and sleepless nights of tangled arms and legs and b-b-b-bodies interwoven into one ethereal experience) the perfect pseudonym for him. or you, depending on who's reading. i just can't pick one. i was struggling with fiction and fantasy, pouring over obscure references passed over in conversation, and, finally, finally, one stuck:

the blue bandit, bb for short.

i'm beginning to feel the murmurings of something big with this eponymous bb. i feel particularly clever in his presence, though my penchant for trusting (read: gullible) is driving me mad. i'm hiding in your bed, and you're hiding in your bed.

and i'm playing both nursemaid and the crazy patient.

bb makes me feel warm and secure with gripping bear hugs (not fatal. yet.) and whisperings of innuendo fmeo. the kisses and pleadings and failure to convey properly only endear him further. and i'm pressing my heart closerandcloserandcloser until the only remnants of me are the greasy smudges on eyeglasses, creating the cling-wrap effect of the coloring of overwhelming sentiments.

and i'm getting small tokens from suitors who i'd like to feel for in the abstract, but my mind's so wrapped around the tightly-trimmed cleanly nail of the blue bandit, masked and waiting and enigmatic and wholly feeling for me.

and that's the thing that helps me sleep at night, often wrapped in his embrace:

helikesmehelikesmehelikesme

i think it's a sure sign of something grandiose, as i witnessed my first real northern snowfall this week. it was epically beautiful, the misting flakes hitting my upturned face in a torrent of smile-inducing precipitation.

and i took it all in as he took my hand and guided me from the window
home.