Honey on the table or spilled out – whatever keeps the fruit flies coming back. We went above the river to see the flood water rising; it has rained all winter and now the blue sky feels unnatural.
We used to dream about Washington, and you’d tell me not to worry about the gray skies or the rain. I survived one week in rainforests and glacial rivers. It has never felt like enough – maybe we’ll move to the same town and live on opposite streets.
Lately I have snapped in pieces of the puzzle but the closer I get to finishing, the less I want to – there is an answer in a place too deep to reach.
My whole body has been sick and I pretend I don’t know the reason – you said you’d take whatever I would give so is it wrong of me to give you less – I don’t know how to quantify the guilt I carry.
Maybe I’ll sell all my belongings, head west, to a cabin in the forest and when people look for me all they’ll hear is the howling of the wind.