last night i wrote that loneliness had sat down hard beside me, but today she's got the mask of meloncholy solitude. i miss you anew each moment, and that's okay. soon it will be soon again. there is a promise of rain, and an invitation to a grilled salmon dinner tonight, an invitation to breakfast tomorrow. i am not alone here.


still, all i could muster myself to do today was keep the teapot whistling, and it took me until just now, five thirty in the evening, to take a shower. i put my pajamas back on. i miss you.