baby meme

I came up with this all by my little self.
This is to see how much people are willing to bask in luxury, to see if and how they would treat their bodies as temples. Women and men both.

Self-spoiling:

1. What is one definite personal vanity luxury item you don't mind spending a good amount of money on? How often do you buy it?
Anna Bellina PS Signature Creme Moisturizer. Yes, I love my skin enough to spend money on it. Hush. One bottle lasts me two to three months, so in the end it is worth it.

2. If you someone gifted you with two hundred dollars to spend just on yourself, in only two stores, which stores would it be (online too)?
http://www.Amazon.com and http://www.Annabellina.com -- books and skin. Feed the brain, feed the body.

3. If you could, how often would you truly pamper yourself and how?
Once a month: Deep facials, eyebrow waxing, full body deep tissue massage with all the works, and Reiki and Shiatsu sessions. Complete spa experience fully loaded.

4. If you had the power to alter, correct, or make better one physical aspect of yourself, what would it be?
I would get laser eye surgery; I hate needing glasses.

Witching

I don't feel like... today, yes, today feels strange.
I am wearing my favorite foundation (BeneFit Play Stick, my color is Jax, it is ivory porcelain rose) but I don't feel very much pretty or well kept. I think a shower will help, like washing clean the soul. Maybe I want for too much and don't know it, don't know what I want or why.

I miss my husband, but he will be home on Saturday. Night. Midnight. The witching hour.
I love that hour. October 27, 1999. Three days after Adam and I had confessed over the phone that we were in love, I was in my dorm room, talking with him again. It was approaching midnight. He was disappointed because he had sent me a gift and it had not come all day. At fifteen minutes past midnight, there was a knock on the door. I put the phone down and opened the door. A man was standing there in a floral shop uniform. He handed me a large crystal glass vase filled with thirteen roses -- twelve red and one white. After I put it on my dresser, I sputtered and sobbed into the phone, thank you thank you oh my gods I love you I love you. It tasted strange on my tongue. I love you, I had never said that before October 24th 1999. I can't stop saying it, I haven't stopped saying it.
I love you. I love you. Adam, I love you. Ours is the witching hour.
Magic. How else could a vase of roses be delivered to a college dorm room just after midnight in the middle of the week?

I feeling doing a ritual tonight. Don't know for what. Purifying, maybe. Luck? Pray that everything will be well. Yes. Dear Isis, make me strong.

Love(r)

Shiefox (Shy-Fox)

My lover is a semi-precious gemstone.
My lover, call him diamond in the rough.
Smooth on the outside. But inside
Under the light
He is scratched and scarred.
Little pieces here and there
Chipped away by time
Hands and hands turning him
Over the years burning him.
My lover is the rare jewel
That sparkles in the right light
And little chips and scratches
Make it precious.
And when held in the right hands
Shines with a brightness
That asks the the world to shine back.

*

Butterfly In A Glass House

My lover calls me a butterfly.
He says I am free.
But I live in a glass-house cocoon
With nets made of steel and spidersilk.
In there I am free,
I dance like I am made of air.

He calls me butterfly, he says I am free.
I dance in a glass house with the windows shut.
After dreams I flutter my wings against the glass
My eyelashes long and thick
Like Mediterranean butterflies.
I dream I am a butterfly
I am a shy butterfly
Staring at the sun from inside.

Beauty(Bloom)

The Rose

A flower never loses youth
The seasons never cease their turn
Things that change and never stop
Time is a game of chance.

A drop of blood on ivory skin
A memory of what could have been
A flash of what the future holds
We can't turn back the years.

We can have forever in a day
A second for eternity
In one moment see a rose
Be born, live and die.

Die as we live
Live as we die
There is no line to cross
We lay awake in dreams prolonged
A memory of what we've lost.

All the stars thrown to the sky
A silent echo calling
Of dreams and love, roses in bloom
Living, dying, falling.

A drop of blood paints a thorn
The heart has no time to mourn
Before rose wakes and loves again
Loves and lives for now, for then.