It is late – it is night. I should be abed with my love, his hand cupping my breast.
I was in bed – he is asleep, but I am awake to write.
I have no choice.
I have risen, and in rising, dressed. A pen is now in hand and the candles are lit. I have what I need.
Gavin has been coming to mind of late. I could choose to blame this on the re-arrival of Chris, (rather, James), but that would be lie.
It is just past the end of August, the nights are beginning to fall cold. It is the start of September.
If we had a time, this is it. Our time.
Would you know me now, walking past in my velvet hat and broken stride?
I would like to think so.
I would like to imagine that you would call my name and catch me in your arms, with a kiss for my cheek.
flash of Bill in the back of a truck, head bowed in an electric chair. He looked so much younger then, more full of joy, of life
The painting on the wall of Brett’s apartment.
I don’t actually know if it was his after all. We left him with those girls, at thier place.
There was a canoe outside, and the painting was of a cat.
Your body, on top of mine, the condom, stinging pain.
I remember how cold you felt.
My siamese, my lover.
An ex-girlfriend named Kristen?, who now has my bear.
I wish I could remember your last name
I still have the clothes I wore when I was with you, I still have the songs.
Waiting at the Denman coffeeshop while you picked up your drugs – the tinfoil you used with it later.
“so what are you two anyhow? You aren’t in a normal sort of relationship”
“yes we are, Nova, we’re in ours”
Showing off happy: Marrisa’s lazershow birthday.
You made me feel beautiful the first time in my life.
The fashion police may not to be out to get you, but I sure am.
I am looking for you Gavin.
I am hunting.