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2002-04-21 It'd been so long. Those Saturdays where we lounge, yesterday on a grassy hill with the freeway below and a bakery in the woods with the best focaccia bread like a fairy tale. You have to learn your way around these parts. And lately I've been so cornered in myself. Almost sent you away but riding your bike you got stuck in the rain. A little cried sighed at the sight. My mom called a few hours before telling me my grandmother's house had burnt down. All these phone calls while dreaming of riding in a red caboose through the Great Plains. And I wasn't sturdy enough to handle myself let alone. Let alone. Everything. I just can't believe I almost sent you away when I needed you. When I get so serious that I can't believe you're trying to be all jocular poke-me-in-the ribs. So serious about being serious that I'm always a face turn away from crying. I become a word calculator. A stoic misrepresentation. My sleeve is drawn closer to the face. All week I wanted to either cry or punch people's faces in. I did neither. You suggested pillows. Pillows later on. But still the chest tightness resides in a body that's stronger than what I'm used to. I still want to cry. It's so close, so hot under my bottom lids here at the library. But still, I keep moving. And moving. And that's all I can do. |