For Better or For Worse

desperate dreams spread their gossamer threads across my mind, penetrating and perpetuating visions of grandeur. disgusted, or perhaps disappointed, I cast them far, flung open handed and wide. can’t win for losing, a voice whispers, but I snap my fingers and laugh sarcastically. or is it sardonically. either way, these dreams stole the tears from my eyes, the voice from my lips, ink from my pen, soul-sucking, and underwhelming in its methodical deviance. there was a time when I listened. there was a time I believed every word uttered under cover of night and in dark alleys. now I know better. now I’ve given everything and betrayal rose up and stuck its tongue down my throat. gossamer threads of memory and longing. silky threads to entice and woo. well, no longer. one day I dropped the special glasses and smashed them under my heel and lo and behold, my unholy betrayer held the ends and cast them like a net. I asked once, would you ever play me like you’ve played others? no? ha. you forget, I ditched the glasses of lovestruck blindness and traded them in for crystal views. you’re playing me right now, you diabolical motherfucker, and I’m letting you.

tara caribou | ©2022

Moments in Blue

We sit across from one another at a little diner. The benches are real wood with ducks and hunting dogs carved into them and the cushions are a faded burgundy vinyl. Country western music plays out the speakers but we aren’t really listening. I’m eating eggs over-medium with hashbrowns and she has French toast and bacon. All around are moderately quiet conversations and the clinking of forks on plates and spoons in mugs. Mine has coffee; hers has hot chocolate with whipped cream. Her eyes are blue. So blue. Blue like the ocean on a clear summer afternoon. The blue in blue of the ever-deepening sky. They remind me of something, those blue eyes. They remind me of carefree days, of laughter, of skipping barefoot, of endless questions, of hugs and kisses and dreams within dreams. They remind me of empty arms, nights of tears, wishful longing, stoic resolution, and then that heartfelt prayer when everything changed. Her eyes are so blue and so beautiful my heart skips a beat and I pause, held captive for a moment because she’s an absolute miracle in a world that desperately needs miracles and overuses the word without any real faith. She blinks and the spell is broken and I look out the window and she says, “what’s wrong, mama?” And I smile and look into her blue blue eyes again and I say, “I love you.”

tara caribou | ©2022

Search History

The other day I went to clear out my search history on Google, as I do occasionally, and as I read my recent searches, I began to giggle. It stuck with me and I thought, I know I’m not the only one…

And I guarantee I don’t have the weirdest search history out there.

First of all, may I say, writers are weird. Yes, I’m talking to you. We research, even minorly, the strangest things for our writing efforts. I bet some of you who write history or science fiction have some very interesting searches.

I’d love to hear some of your recent searches! I hope you’ll comment and share a few. I asked on my social media and received some funny and some head-scratching responses.


Two Become

Fold myself into you
Lift me to your lips
Press me to your tongue
Swallow me whole

Two become one

I gasp and I shiver
Skin tingling
Your words brush my ear
Slip inside

Absorb every atom
More than you or I
Impart fragments
Rushed whispers

We coalesce
Ends and beginnings
Heart trembling
Somehow together

tara caribou | ©2022

Winter Glow and Soft New Life Photography

The winter glow is like magic to my soul. I find myself unable to look away. The chill buries itself in my bones, but it’s not unwelcome. Gone are the long overheated days of summer with its unrelenting sun rays and sweat on my brow. These are the days of hibernation, of introspection, of root growth.

Winter (and autumn) are my favorite seasons, which is one of the many reasons I live here in Alaska. Where I live, it’s about six months long and I love it.

I also got a precious little bundle of gifts when my one of my rabbits had a litter of kits the last day of the year. I’m in love with these little guys. I hope you guys enjoy the photos.

No filters. Just gorgeous sunset reflection and dark clouds overhead.
Sunset ice glow.
You know it’s cold when there’s sea ice.
I like how the dark clouds overhead made the water look almost black.
Sunset ice glow.

Brand new baby bunnies. Four kits.
Born 31st December.
Six days old.
10 days old. Look at those ears!

tara caribou | ©2022 all photos by me

Transactional Interactions

Great piece!
Thanks ♥️

Follow 4 follow!

DM to be featured.

Oh this is wonderful!
Thank you 🙏🏼

*seven thousand emojis*
*three emoji response*

I’m not a commodity and my responses are legitimate and honest. My name is tara and I’m a real live human with thoughts and feelings. F*ck the robots. I crave true interaction. Others to learn and grow with. To laugh and sigh. To care. To be invested in.

Leave the shallowness to the rain puddles.

tara caribou | ©2022

**also, not looking for an online “relationship” except friendship and camaraderie

Sun and Snow Photography

My hands went numb and my batteries died in the cold but it was worth it. Enjoy!

tara caribou | ©2022 all photos by me

Words as Rivers, Flow

Early in the morning, I miss you.

Those long conversations, me staying up far too late and you, laughing at my tired voice, refusing to fall asleep. How topics, flowing, turning and twisting, like a river down mountains through valleys, sometimes ebbing, slowing, deep wide areas with layers of meaning, sometimes the words tumbling, rushing to escape over the cliffs of lips.

I miss you.

The unspoken bond between us growing, deepening, become stronger, unfathomably so, as we muddled through lust into deeper meaning, each of us longing for more than mere physical attraction but to another soul to simply listen and understand and not walk away regardless.

Within these memories, I miss you.

tara caribou | ©2022

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