werewolf.

holy F*ing full moon, kids.
i mean it.
those bluish beams bathing me in rays;
that silvery circle in the sky glowing like a lantern;
the press of my pulse at my temples and toes.
yeah.
full moon fever is upon us,
and it's making nighttime bright bright bright and shiny.
frosty fractals on fallen leaves,
and fawkesy fireballs for our faces.
y'know?
yep.
check the bonfire-night-type teleport:

fuego!!
how else could we end a full day of freshness,
and the overlapping lycanthropic lullabies of time and space spanned and spent together?
yes.
that's a thing.
by the end of the evening,
as the embers of my upcycled paper products died out,
and the vegan marshmallows got put away,
our whole Perfect Fall Day ended just exactly right.
we saw some people,
we bought some treats,
we treated ourselves well,
we spanned time and made time and took our time, and took others' time, too.
and then that fire tied it all together.
a werewolfen wassail of howls and heavy hands soulclappin' and b!tchslappin'
and all kinds of warmth and smoke and all-inclusive disintegration and combustion.
what i mean is-
twin lights, from the orb in the sky,
and the stone circle in the earth,
cold glowing lights, reflecting off the face of the moon and down onto us,
and hot tongues of energy converted from matter,
keeping us comfortable in the deepening autumn cold.
that's a good day, and night, for sure.
i know i got what i needed out of it.
***********
oh.
yes.
indeed, duders.
iron-pulling tidal waves of oceanic activation were absolutely effing with me.
being by the sea, during the lunatic magnetic maelstrom?
yikes.
and add in some F*ing dumb wind, too?
i had all my senses heightened by anxiety,
and i diluted them down to manageable levels with nutrients.
y'feel me?
that's right.
i gave my whole body something intensive to occupy itself with.
....digestion.
ugh.
i ate way too much food yesterday.
i had to.
i chose to.
i regret not one bite, neighbors.
lunch burritos the size of babies,
and enough dinner to feed fifty people,
instead of just three.
with snacks on the way to and from the food times.
mmmhmmm.
that's smart, really.
fueling up to slow down,
so that the barbaric berserker fury of a flustered blustery day by the sea
didn't spoil the whole point of it all.
word up.
because spanning time is supposed to be expert,
it all unfolds along the invisible dotted lines of a secret universal origami planagram
everything, all the time, as it happens.
what else?
nothing;
never quiet, never soft.....