Dear Diary . . . day by day

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Wednesday, June 30th, 1999 - Falling off the face of the Earth

	No, I really haven't fallen off the face of the earth. I'm in a quandry, because I'm in a situation that I can't really discuss in this public of a journal. "What-what-what tell us!" you cry? Ah, well, let's just say I have a new boyfriend - and we have the most amazing sex. So, I've been busy, you understand. And that's all you need to know about that.
	I'm just a happy camper these days...amazing how that works. David and I are getting along just perfectly; I have new groups of friends that like to go out and *do* things, so I've been social too. I'll try to be better about writing in this journal - perhaps it'll be easier now that I've made some sort of a confession (see above). In the meantime, here's a poem I wrote recently: Santa Cruz Seduction I dreamt about a tabby cat        with fur like that water,        silver glints on azure waves,        pricked to brilliance        by the eye of the full moon. You couldn't have picked a better        night to show me        the ocean,        the sound of the waves        roaring in, breaking        on the rocks below us,        the taste of salt air        on our tongues when we        stopped kissing to catch our breath. You perched me on your lap,        legs dangling as they haven't        since I was a little girl        in land-locked Indiana. Being held by you        gazing at the silver light        glancing off the strong lines        of your face,        your tiger's eyes        softened        by moon, by water,        by the achingly romantic setting        you brought us to. I must kiss you again        my new lover, new friend,        new joy. Once again, with you I find        that words fall short,        crashing against us like waves,        only wetting us        for more. Heather Shaw June 28th, 1999
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