She asks after the dog, which matters. As always I refuse to be tired. As always I invest in liquids - those I enter, those that enter me. You do what you have to do. Mostly.
Yes, later, the lake. Yesterday I held a woman's hand while she cried, saying that she doesn't feel she's "one mind." Babies die at one, two days, and we want to meet them years later. I remember leaping in certain barns, I remember kisses after the sun set. The beautiful ones settle for longing, while the broken push on towards atonement.
The bear perched perfectly on the stone wall and looked back at me. The moon is always falling somewhere. One gushes, one swallows, and the world is remade accordingly. The man without shoes doesn't own a watch. Be not afraid indeed.
Be a knot, a braid. My fingers are always trailing through some woman's hair. This table sustains me while the sentences sustain a reader in Paris. Who gives me nothing may yet. We are susceptible to love, to subtlety, to this.