sounds

Dreamgirl names her internal combustion machines. She has a high iq and uses names that are difficult for me to remember. The way they sound on her lips share her feelings about those machines. She really has a beautiful voice. One day in my icm, I told her that she should have a radio show. She was abused mentally and physically by her mom and this pushed her in a dogged pursuit toward psychology information. With her encyclopedic knowledge on the topic and beautiful voice, it just seemed like a good mix for her to be on the waves. After asking if she knew people in radio, she laughed,
"I just sold two radio stations." She tilts her chin up and presses her lips together and laughs with every cell in her body. There's no better place on earth to be than with her when she laughs. We started dating a week later. We only had weekends together physically because we live in different places. It usually took about an hour and a half to get from here to her. So this really wasn't a long-distance relationship, but it was an element.
Orange was, hmm, Dreamgirl's best female friend? It was a difficult relationship for me to describe. See, Orange and Dreamgirl had an enterprise together. Dreamgirl said that people told her that she and Orange were like a married couple. When Dreamgirl described her enterprise I told her that there were hundreds of thousands of people that needed it. Some people have great ideas and never follow through. Some people have lousy ideas but never give up on them. Dreamgirl and Orange were half way there, or so it seemd. The first night that Dreamgirl and I were horizontal to the universe, the moment before I kissed her, she said with laughter,
"Orange loves your thoughts."
Obviously, Dream had told Orange what I said about their enterprise. It wasn't an extreme break from reason that Dream would talk about Orange's thoughts from time to time. They pursued money together, played tennis, and just did stuff that friends do. I did wonder about Dream thinking about Orange's thoughts when the only form and concept in my mind was Dreamgirl. People think in different ways though and it didn't "bother" me, it just was something that footnoted on my programing.

keep it coming love, keep it coming love
don't stop it now, don't stop it no

We ate fruit and laughed about bald-headed children and rode roller coasters and walked that monster dog who could rearrange furniture and got a delicious thrill from dragging all of my clothes outside. We played basketball and ignored the stock market and fondled in public and restaraunts and drove to Tennessee and brought home a rescue. One night we were sitting on a dock on Cooter's Creek and as she was telling me about how she felt about how people in her life influenced her this way and that, a dreamesque look covered her from chin to brow and she started talking about Orange. She said,
"Sometimes I wonder what she's doing to me." This thought was interupted. She walked off the dock to urinate. Thinking about it, she could have just stayed on the dock. I warned her about being barefooted and dang if she didn't step right on a rusty screw. There's not a lot of litter or random devices laying around the yard beside the dock. There is no litter, but somehow she found one screw smaller than a pinky. I carried her up to the lakehouse and did the best I could to dress the wound. We ended up driving in to town and visiting the emergency room. The nurse was great but I was beginning to wonder if I was going to be driving back alone because she was all over Dream. When Dream needs something she can be a helpless ten year old in voice and body language. Personally, I don't count that as an admirable trait but Dream is a maestro at doing it. Then when Dream wants something that she thinks you can deliver, well, that's at the heart of what's great about her. She is tough as leather. Like in basketball, she grits her teeth and pokes you in soft, vulnerable places then drives. So the nurse is stern with me. Whether she was being possessively protective or protectively possessive there was a definite power dynamic going on. I was forbidden to be in the room. For a tetanus shot and cut wrap? It amused me and increased my confidence that Dream would be well-tended. So I never found out what Dream thought Orange was doing to her or why she thought Orange was doing anything at all.
Dream had been married once. A few years ago, on a different dock on a different body of water, Dream, Feces, her husband, and moi had shot fireworks into the galaxy on Boxer Day. It could have been the 4th of July but like everything else I attempt to do, I'm terrible with dates. Within three months of their wedding, Feces embarks on sexual reconaissance without his wife. So Dream has a definite issue with how people she dates think about her friends and associates. Normal and understandable. I don't have all of this information when we begin dating. When Dream asks out of cotton candy if I've ever thought about any of her friends sexually I say yes through the phone. With what Dream has told me about Orange, who by this time I've met, I have thought about Dream and Orange being together sexually. I have not thought of myself being with Orange or anyone else, known or unknown by Dream. Dream gets really mad with my answer and though I didn't expect her to buy me a banana split, I did think that "okay, we need to talk about this" would have been a more likely response. It's not a matter of right or wrong, but expected and unexpectated. I had told her that the thought of two females being together was a thought that I enjoyed. She'd even told me that before we started dating that she wondered whether she was going to have a male or female partner as she searched out individuals.
So now she's out there in the world being beautiful and I'm ... just a total ... insane ... perplexed ... peanut eatin' ... insignificant male. She tastes good, can't cook, and wont think twice about breaking ribs to get to her goal. Her mom screwed her up like I've never seen but the fact that she can even stand upright and complete a sentence just shows how steel tough she is. If Feces walked in front of my icm I'd accelerate and rename it Lee Harvey Oswald II.
She tastes better than good. Her taste controls where all my thoughts wander. She tastes as good as Nora Jones' voice sounds.