Driving back from work there is a dangerous curve and then the wide expanse of a glittering Pacific Ocean that fills my field of vision reminds me
I still find difficult to conceive horrible things can happen on exquisitely beautiful days
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I worry about my intentions being misunderstood about the inevitable distance between me and my future niece about the stale friendship that sits at the bottom of a chipped white cup about the rusted downspout that runs down the length of my house but I am a part of the action a participant alive
I wonder at the very end what will remain if my husband or a family member or my work or a friend or my house or a book or a recipe or what I haven’t done but that I plan to do or someone I haven’t even met I wonder how the sentence I will use for consolation will conclude because at the very least no matter what I will still have my __
It’s not that I would follow you anywhere or that you are what I measure truth against not that I see what’s in your heart not that I blindly believe in you it’s that every time I am given something good to eat I know I will give you the best piece
Inside my head there is dialogue constant dialogue discourse debate disagreement a promise a deal a sacred pact true my reality outside it’s all a movie a plot complex characters that unfold for months for years twists in the story good screenwriting definitely entertaining occasionally even engrossing but never real enough
