STOMPIN'

The swingin’ anthem of the independent woman. 
She’s bored, he’s poor, she’s living, he’s existing. She really loved you baby - but now, she’s gotta go… 
She gets her hair done, steps into her Jimmy Choos, smooths out the creases in her red satin dress - not for a man - for herself.  
She’s her own dream-date. 
The screen door slams behind her, she throws her keys onto the front porch and doesn’t look back. There’s a whole new life to live – BUT FIRST – she’s stopping in at her favourite, sweaty, all-night-get-tight booze-can. 
Gonna go stompin’ and be-boppin’ all by her own damn self, thank you. 
She’ll sort out the rest of her life in the morning… 

HOLDING ON TO LETTING GO

The time goes so slowly
When you are the one left behind
To feel the staggering shock of how your body feels without the protection of it’s other half - Without the weight of nonchalant leanings, arm & arm walks, midnight staggers.
The breathing in and breathing out in rhythms known only to each other, is only a memory now…
The hardest part, is letting go.

COME BY ME

On a beach blanket, a transistor radio is tuned to the A.M. dial – slotted between a Bacharach tune and Brazil 66 – Come By Me is sunshine on Campari. A breezy come-on, pillow-talk for a summer’s night. Orange-crushing on possibility, adventure & romance, a curly telephone cord twists between slender fingers - nails painted Forget Me Not pink - It’s an intimate invitation - that can’t be revoked.

WORDS ESCAPE ME

Speechless in the church of love.

BOOM BOOM

The language of love is far more powerful then any other language on earth. All this bla, bla, bla, about which language is the better language… when really, the one thing we all have in common - is a beating heart.

HURT YOU A LITTLE