The incense matches are actually cool and very portable. Unlike my burner which is a tiny fairytale castle that burns the smoke in reverse, down a waterfall in front which is also some sort of magic of a different kind.

I'm out in the gazebo this morning. The tiny lights and gossamer sheets are still draped everywhere, hems filthly from billowing out over the grass in ribbons and back. I stole Ben's giant headphones and I'm bouncing back and forth between The Folklore Album (they said they knew I'd be a fan of Taylor Swift eventually and they were right) and new Gojira. It's a quiet-jar, a juxtaposition and I like it. I've got a book of incense matches, a hot fresh cup of coffee and a rosemary rocksalt bagel (my absolute favorite and I make a stupid number of trips up to Commercial drive to get them) and I'm drawing, mostly.

I'm feeling the exquisite burn of the light bite marks all up and down my legs, covered with a halter maxidress to prove he didn't because my shoulders are clean, no marks. The dress drags behind me on the ground like a train. Its hard to find them in petite sizing (impossible, I mean) and so I buy them regular and just lift up my skirts when I'm going up and down the stairs like a princess would, if I were one, which I'm not. I turn and confirm that with the line of dirt along the hem, just like these billowing sheets on the gazebo.

It's a beautiful day. It's supposed to rain tomorrow. It's not supposed to be so hot today. I already had a swim in the shivery-cold water with Lochlan, and now he's having a shower while I get half an hour to myself. It's all I am allowed, on his watch. We left the Devil in our bed to sleep late. He likes to do that on Wednesdays. Hang out in our bed, I mean. Not sleep late. They were generous and patient last night and mischievous too. They were a team, somehow, in a serendipitous moment under a full moon that stretched right through until the blue hour of the morning.

And I'm tired.

But happy.

I can't see past the end of my nose. I can't tell the future (though I could fake it pretty good, I've been taught by the greatest in the world), I don't know what lunchtime is going to bring, let alone five years from now. Maybe it's time to live in the moment, instead of the past. Maybe we don't have to worry about the future. We did a lot of work to make it that way and now maybe I can finally enjoy this.