Day: November 8, 2004

I never would have guessed.

This morning I feel like a typographical error.

Today I’m to see my lawyer. I wish I’d known that when I went to bed. Bless the three hour time difference, else I might have gone to bed even later. 9 a.m. I was to be there, he called at 9:40 asking after me. We’ve re-scheduled for 2 this afternoon. I’m going to soak myself in heat and hope I can properly walk by noon. It would not bode well to be crippling my way into his office. It would be bad news indeed.

My settlement is on Thursday.

He said to bring my file, but I don’t think I have one. Receipts, he said, but for what? I can’t think of any accident related that weren’t my cane and he has that one. I feel like hanging my head in uselessness. Almost three years and I don’t know what to do. I have no file, I have nothing but his letters. I want to call Bill for help and solace, but I don’t know if I dare invade his life. He (angrily? I do not know) vanishes when I take a lover, but perhaps it’s alright now they’re all away again. As I was discussing with both Michel and Jay last night, people usually aren’t quite real when they’re far away. They’re made of idea and concept, not so much flesh. Michel had an interesting observation, how it’s very catholic, part of the ultimate separation of soul and the body carrier. Perhaps that can count as my contextual loophole, they are real to me, but less so to him. Names only, possibly I can make them matter less than myself so that he’ll talk with me. I miss him.

Divine, this world still holding on. Interruptions from various gods don’t seem to matter, gravity continues to tick along paying us no mind whatsoever. It’s like believing in a teapot. My phone number isn’t very hard to find. The truth is always far too single. My hands open emptily and I can’t taste your eyes on me anymore. My most floral print baggage now is the unshakable belief that the people I like won’t want to see me. I’ll come to their homes and I’ll be rejected, shepherded out of the house and into the rain. I have to remember that that was only one lover. These people won’t leave me to bleed. I can place your hands on my neck and let you. The shimmer in my bones says I trust you. Security confidence, don’t lie to me or yourself.

Blood touches your heart like I want to. Slick salty fingers licking the inside of your flesh. Hands curling together in your hair as if to pray. The words that leave my lips are in whispers, they are in a language everyone knows. You name is here, caught between my teeth and tongue. I said it, just now. Did you hear? Backseat driver taking your hands as mine, my sweetness sinking into you like you forgot you existed as anything else. This bait taken before conscience operated with a guilt scalpel knife.