DAY 87

Marooned with you. Ok, maybe not marooned. Passing through with you. Years melted in as you recounted. I think. Will mine be as good? I'm already tired of hearing them. Must make some more. Marooned with you. Oh right, not marooned. Stopping for the night. Yellow street lamps. Breath in the air. The smell was so strong, I thought it chemical. Nope. Just not used to this. I'm learning how to breathe again. I learned too early and forgot too late. Just because she isn't dumb, doesn't mean she's smart. Smile and sleep well. I wrote something down. But too shy today to share. I'm sorry. Maybe soon. Marooned with you. Yes, marooned. Please. Thank you.

DAY 77

Gently I lay my head on your lap. We are sitting in the lobby of a hotel we are not staying at. We are having coffee and reading. I've spilled my drink twice. The night before left us slightly askew. But all aspects are right. The photo booth asks for some company, I want to cooperate. An impulse to document something so sweet. You remind me we aren't exactly photo-worthy at this hour, I remind myself that we will have more. There is no desperation. Simple confidence in a moment's existence and ability to conceive more. I am slipping into this more easily. With your help. Saturday slowed itself so we could feel each passing moment lucidly. You generously toured me around a new city. You made me feel at home. I was introduced to more of your life. Today we have nothing but thanks to give. And by "we", I mean "we."

DAY 74

Everything. This is harder than I thought. Divine and comedic. I laugh when I cry. Oh yeah, I do the opposite too. I have a photo on my desk. It is about 2.5" x 2". It is set in place with black photo corners and encircled by little cloth flowers. Faded from time. The brass frame is delicately ornate. It has lost its ability to be hung. Pictured are two people I know well, but never knew as pictured. Grass blurs the frame. It is a beautiful moment and know it as one of the ones that created me. To have it here is a blessing. I will not forget to do the same for my little ones. Can't wait to meet you. You are already beautiful. The moments are here, just waiting to be breathed. This is still scary. This is still exciting.

DAY 72

I'm gonna need to polaroid...everything. This can't go unnoticed. These afternoons cannot pass without documentation. They're going to be amazing. Trust me. By October we will be nostalgic. In November we will once again wonder why time passes so quickly. So, I'm gonna get a polaroid tomorrow and capture every day. Maybe it will slow things down.

DAY 71

I squinted and saw you as a gangly young teen. I squinted more and saw you at seven. You are precious to me as you are precious to her then. We've agreed to share. They will carry you swiftly. This is my story. The water is still warm. My fingers are still smooth. And for now this will do. Lights. A memory came to me suddenly. The relation, not immediately apparent. Let me see if I can trace it....my most vivid memories of bathing as a child occured at Mel's house. We would walk down Spruce Street to go to Bill's Drugs. We'd always walk by this large overgrown lot. I wanted to play in it, but I think it belonged to a church. Maybe they were Korean. Codorices. I need to get back to these places. Find the abandoned car in the creek. Find the tunnel under Eunice. And to just now discover a Frank Lloyd Wright house. Maybe our stories couldn't be more disimilar. Maybe that's just picturesque enough to feel mine. The wind is honest with me today. I felt you shining behind me, reminding me that I am shining behind you.

DAY 68

There are days. And then there are Days. Too often are days in order for there to be Days. To remember. And these are the Days of our lives. Moving moments. I take photos of TV, I don't watch it. Contempt is good for that. Godard is just plain good. "Plain good" is a borrowed expression for me. I lost my Guccis and replaced them with some $18 joints. I am thrilled with the lack of attachment. Slow and Steady Wins The Race is the jam though. Game recognize game.

DAY 67

The river cried for you, Love.
She said you were not well, Love.
They say this is a blessing, Love.
Run in the dark, Love.
Be blind, Love.

The river cries for me, Love.
She says I am not well, Love.
I say this is a blessing, Love.
I will run in the dark, Love.
I will be blind at your expense, Love.

The river will cry for us, Love.
They'll say we are not well, Love.
We've said this is a blessing, Love.
We've walked in the dark, Love.
We were blind, Love.

DAY 66

Not sure if Ply is the new Black, but silver foiled dictionaries definitely are. A being of a higher order, who will remain nameless, once told me that Compassion is my middle name. After asking the dictionary tonight, "Am I totally awesome, or what?" it replied with, "compassion". There are keys and clues in your own head. If you're having trouble finding them, pick up the dictionary and ask it a question. Interpretation is the only thing you need to keep close tonight. Sweet moon.

DAY 65

I feel it stirring inside me now. Primavera. Heightened by swelling and collapsing. Gently. I can smell the beginning like fresh lavender in my mother's garden. My mother loves it. I love it because of her. Walking the line between nervous excitement and panic attacks. I really want a cigarette right now.