Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Black T-Shirt

Dear post nap,

Read Acts 1-24 of the NLT study bible.
Metropolitan wheat bottle.
Late night talk shows.
Check the tabs.
Click the tunes.
Fuck acts 26-28.
Take his coat.
Kiss the cat.
Folk the music.
Talk about Bloomington.
Hard day.
Me too.
Not that bad.
Sink into the navy blue couch that we've affectionately nick named old brown.
Watch his eyes slam shut beside you.
Turn down the music.
Peel the cat off the remaining hummus.
Go way back.
They say to just go back when you can't get to the rest place.
When you're procrastinating moving us to the bed because you don't want to clean the hummus.
All the way back to the incubator.
Wonder how much you felt.
Or if it was invisible like Freida's bus ride.
Just lie still.
In and out.
Out and down.
Lungs without pressure.
Plastic boxes without fathers.
How long was I in there?
Just me, my in, my out, my down, and my through.
Linda says two months.
So, I'll never know.
She was sent home, but I stayed.
And she says she visited me every day for a few hours.
So, I'll never know.
Wonder if I thought of giving up.
Clearly didn't.
Come far.
Skin and Toast

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