midnight conversations in tinted light

the words are difficult today

An amaretto sour is a cocktail made up of lemon juice, amaretto, egg whites, and drops of bitter

A gimlet is a cocktail made up of half vodka and half gin, with lime cordial or juice. Vodka and gin are vastly different spirits and personally speaking...I quite hate it when they're together nor am I a gimlet drinker. But I feel this is a cocktail fit for my character, a simple yet classic cocktail with conflicting spirits to represent an equally internally conflicted character.

And thank you Spark! <3 @LadySpark

Dang! I agree with spark, I love x. It's simple, but poetic and direct and ugh! xi is also super - I would never in a million years think of a way to make pythagoras poetic or romantic, but the image pairs of skin and sky and looking for the connecting line between horizon / people / arms etc. ah love it all. You're really good at knowing just how much to write too so that the images are just swirling meaning and mystery, but not writing too much as to get repetitive or wordy, or overly narrative. Your style is just very readable and engaging!

@alliyah, you're amidst one of my most favourite and respected poets here and you always make my heart go aflutter whenever you comment on my napo threads. ahsflkds, thank you so much for the kind words (as usual!!)

Adore that first stanza <33 And using the quote block is unique and fun, plus it's super effective here because there's such a shift in tone/style/emotion when the answer comes. Totally wonderful!

Today's entry is a little mix of prose and poetry,

Thank you Wolf and Elektra!

Obsessed with 'the other side of the bar'! You've been killing this!!

but every response is a mirror image
of the one I want.
Always identical, but the wrong side of
the coin no matter how many times
I toss.

so mysterious :3 I also love your characterization of 'her' in the beginning. Keep it up <33

Poetry has felt...very difficult of late, so I've been using them as springboard for prose.

And I no longer remember how we first met. The time of day, or the week, or the month. Only that it was sometime in spring, I remember because you had knocked with petals in your hair. Soft blossom pink that stood out starkly against your hair, and back then, your eyes were of a clearer blue. Like spring water, unfiltered, dissolved from the purest of winter snow.

I had never seen eyes so bright before, I thought you must have been a creature from another planet. And to be fair, I wasn't off the mark.