11.17.99

A few days ago it was foggy and I loved it. Loved the silence and the solitude. It is like snow, but more shy. Like a shy girl sitting at the corner of the table in the bar, quiet before those around her. Her slightest smiles curl between them and up under the noses of others whose faces strain to see. Occasionally a drift into conversation and a graceful exit out. She is a thing untouchable, glowing in the x's of her arms and legs, and that gaze averted from the non-seeing. They would reach for her, but who wants to be seen catching empty-handed? And then last night we did a sun dance. Slithered on a drape, sucking the moisture from the air and raining out the soul. A setting things right. This morning the sun shone and I felt dehydrated and light.

future past index