The Rewrite Daily News a Never New and Never Ending Story

"Every day is a page to write a new story". And I have rewritten us every day for the last 20 years We break up…but we were never really together We make up…how sweet it is ...but …well… not exactly true more like we meet up …our touching is like an orchestra….an opera...the phantom….an aria the melting and rising crescendos… the fall of man The ad reads: Legendary man…meets Trident Triumph Woman Adam and Eve but Adam loves the snake more than Eve’s fine fruit Our depth and complexity is too rich to be served in the finest restaurants. How can anyone create a sauce so refined? No chef could ever imbue it …so how… I? pungent…repugnant…delicious…delectable…soft smooth cream and velvet sauce….tangerine and truffles …butter...heavy cream...olive oils his skin is like the skin of the fresh bagel …warm to the touch and smooth ...but not perfect he is just like a bagel with cream cheese because even he “knows the importance of a bit of fat in the diet” He is self admittedly like tuna fish out of the can sitting on a couch...because we sit on them and lie on them and sleep on them and make love on them… and rarely... and only for a few minutes …we watch TV on them drink swigs of tequila to take the shaking edge off of our all knowing needing nerves we are a year overdue...in a highly unusual and deeply troubling drought Is it just global warming or is it the end? Need and want are starting to write messages to each other on the wall but neither are winning any real battles limbo limbo limbs –his limbs are long and lithe like thin avocado and too sweet fruit slices...banana and limes..and great crates of lemons He likes the squeeze of the off years I make lemonade too easily…ergo the rewrites His persona has grown torrid distemper is the result…my dis-temper…I do not want him… I swear Turning 40 must have been a thing for him but he did not share it with me we were in an off year like a vineyard ...we have bad years…too many other people minerals in the soil...way too much rain …it always pours when we are fighting ...we smash the grapes within each other..break the thin placenta skins I keep pace by rewriting ...what is cool white as black or red….hot to the touch like his lips in a hard kiss...or his hands ...in desperate clutch It was a surprise fine Rhine …an off year that turned out to be the best vintage yet...but no that is not right. The best was the last...so why can't I just leave it at that and stop writing