When we first met online, Forgottenman, in Missouri, serenaded me, in Mexico, over Skype until I fell asleep every night. The illustration above is one from a night when I asked to see his hands strumming the guitar as I fell asleep. Sweet, huh? That ended after a year or so, but over the past seven years, we have had many midnight and post-midnight Skype conversations. Want to eavesdrop? Here are a few:
On Skype (After Midnight and 3 Margaritas)
She: maybe I need to take Frida (the Akita) to the snore doctor.
She: Perhaps she has sleep apnea. She sounds like a lion when she sleeps.
She: Have you ever heard her snore?
She: Do you miss it?
He: Miss your zzzz’s
She: You miss my snores? Sweet.
She: I miss snoring for you.
He: That’s the first line of a poem.
She: I’ll write a poem starting with “I miss snoring for you,” if you will, too.
He.: I’ll try to remember to do so tomorrow.
You Say You Miss My Snores
I miss snoring for you,
stepping on your shoe
when we don’t dance,
miss that glance
from your alternate self
you keep on a shelf
when you aren’t with me.
How can it be
that both of us choose
to leave our clues
with no tether,
He: it just blows me away how you can come up with something like that, so achingly beautiful, in less than five minutes!
She: Ah. You inspire it.
He: I muse you whilst i amuse you
She: Ha. That is exactly it!
She: What you just said couldn’t have been said more succinctly or more briefly. It is the tweet
She: sweet tweet of poetry—sweet bird of absurd
(After this, the conversation digressed. No more shall be said.)
Update: “He” has written his version, as agreed. I give a link to it below the short additional conversation below
At Midnight after 4 Margaritas:
She: What is the most dreaded disease of hockey players?
He.: i give
She: Chicken Pucks!!!
He: (facepalm emoticon)
She: What is the most dreaded disease of Narcissists?
He.: I give
She: The most dread disease of martyrs? (Promise, last one.)
She: You-rinary tract infections
Note: These Skype conversations are from four years ago.The second one actually occurred the same night as the 3 Margarita conversation, so no, I’m not drinking Margaritas every night. Also, I mix very weak Margaritas, so they are not totally to blame for the silliness above. Around one or two in the morning, my mind usually gets on a jag and the best way to deal with it is just to hang up on me, which happened soon after this string of unfortunate jokes. Corny, but I still get a kick out of them. Yes, they are all original. I wouldn’t blame them on anyone but my own past-midnight mind. Judy
.See Forgottenman’s answer to my “You Say You Miss My Snores” here.
The posts above are copied from blogs posted four years ago. The prompt today was conversation.