THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
It's the beginning of fire season in California.
The combination of the meditation, the acupuncture, the withdrawls, and the oppressive heat are giving me a sloshy kind of drunkeness. Nothing is moving together at the same pace.
sometimes I feel as if I ought to sit down and write about you, about dreams about you.
I call your phone just to hear it ring, just to see if you've still got it. I check all the news stories all over the country to see if you're in them- your body found, you arrested, you injured, you maimed, you overdosed- You aren't in it,
I should give you more credit,
But maybe it's the sort of thing that doesn't make the news-