Today I wanted to stay in and write. I wanted to find a used slide projector and make a show on our wall of other people's vacations. Today I wanted to document it all; the taste of anise, the sounds of stepping on leaves, the sound of the hub on my favorite wheels, the way light creates stars in the creases of a strawberry candy wrapper, the ribbons of a balloon wrapped around an antenna, the shush and rattle of the wind in the trees, the sounds of bicycles as they travel in packs, the way expensive shoes sound on the pavement, stepping the time away moment by moment, the way our sight wraps itself around each object, softly and carefully, like a cotton towel after a cool swim.


This life is an engagement ring, it's the touch of your lips against a warm forehead.

This is it,

a heart beating.

Still the body resting into a blue corner, pressing a toe against the crack in the wooden floor.

Ink dots dripping onto fresh paper like pores of skin. Listen, it crackles as it spreads.


The ceiling is above and the floor is below and the walls are four sides of boundary, it's a space.

What will you fill it with?

Two minutes or twenty thousand miles?

A fragrance of pears?

The nape of a neck?