Celebrity crushes never made sense to me.
But now I have one on Larkin Grimm. Gah, she is exquisite.
Her music is not magic--it's reality, if you look hard and honest and unafraid.
No one must know, they'll think I'm a hippie. I'm trying to put forth an image of logical wisdom, practical boldness. I'm trying to hide my poet-self so I can actually do something real in the world.
But my childhood is a mythology of red mud and sacred gourd seeds, eking out a homeland in the endless and expanding miles of suburbia.
If I could stay in that Dreamtime forever--
If I had never met anyone but Leah and Kate--
If I stopped trying to be strong--
Larkin Grimm would be my kinswoman.