my poor. pretty. powder blue. and still. tarp-covered baby. after the snow storm. and apparently since no furry crawling creature. let alone i. will venture to touch him
part 1 of the snow storm, when his - i still don't have a name for him, my old-school soon-2-be pimped out ride - butt was still sticking out. and i did plan to dig him out. and start him up. and talk about our future. however, after part 2 of the snow storm. i imagined my fragile size 4 frame. turning corpse. collapsed under sun-loosed icicles. OR. beneath feets of cold white stuff.
thankfully, i am blessed to pull on my boyish but cheer-ry pjs and matching bandanna. of pinks and yellows, lines and swirls. sip tea. and frequently peek out the window: saying: hey lover, i'll have u out soon. and i mean it. probably as soon as my big brother brings his big sons to help him un dig his little sis' car. it is part his fault - he gave me the car
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