my face burned with cold as I looked over my city this morning

This boy is a scrawny kitten creature of a man. Whipcord lean and alleycat sweet. I want to take him in to protect him from the cold. Take this saucer of milk darling, lap it up curled in my lap. Trust me lovely, I don’t want your skin to line my coat.


It’s the season for warm winds blowing rain into uplifted faces. Hide your eyes from the too kind sky. This morning there was a mad scurry dash of activity when the water began. We had to get the fireworks under the tarp as quickly as we could. When I had arrived earlier, I discovered that I was remembered from the course. Jay had told Elliot that he was bringing his friend in today, “She was in the course this week. She would have been the blond one.” “Blond and purple?” “Yeah, that’s Jhayne” “She was the one who took a nap during class”

the sound of keys in a clay cup

Sentences are running through my head like my love line. A broken jagged thing traveling across my hand, unreadable for it’s lack of coherency. Damned post modern relationships. Sweet mother terra needs to rewire my attraction board. Take the pegs out and re-arrange to fit my place and physical location into the program. It’s my fault somehow for falling for people, not flesh. I remember once I scraped off make-up with damp sand. It was course, gritty against my cheeks. I don’t know if I was dreaming. Where was I then? On my knees in a skirt, the surf in front of me? Not what I was looking at.

This is the important time for set-up. A few blocks away is the practical experience to wiring up explosives, the learning what I need to know. I can picture them perfectly, moving back and forth on the gravel field. Lisa Lee checking her set-up paper time and again. I’m jealous of their cold hands, their volunteer coffee in styrofoam cups. Instead I’m working with the kids, a small heap of ill-won candy my none too healthy breakfast.

I see you

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