I keep surprising myself. every now and then. a mystery within me. lets see what I reap...if I sow.
forgotten what i came to blab about.
every woman must have a secret, a past she can fish out of her attic on a rainy day and smile at. faces, a goodbye-not-said, glances, smiles, an unspoken buzz. jilted admirers, crushes....what could have been...a part of her that is still saucy and bouncy.
visit them when life gets too messy, when it seems like there are only dead ends and no forward movement. when she feels as attractive as the kitchen rag.
every woman must have a past.