i could say you had me at pipe dream but of course it was before that, opening the black door or on the well lit bridge on the way back from your sunset or picnic in a gym bag con todo except an umbrella, and stories of you in the snow, in a church, on a boat, and it was never dancing around the edges clever and don't say too much or you will be crushed. also it seems i've specialized in dirges, how to write about something that is not dead? to start with and let's be flagrant, who knew i liked american football (lucky larry and lady friends and don't talk to me!) i saw how you cheered the other team as well as your own, the game being the point also there was cheesecake and the way you can just be, mischief, you are both/and truly, next to my heating coil with its many and varied attendant dangers, i was in silver slippers and about to fall down. i feel no one has asked me if i am ok before, ever? next day sequins fell on my floor, trailing glitter shards why i asked only lightly, and where did they come from, there is fear but there is also not fear and at times i have been seen scampering. with these legs? what's my m.o. after all (instead of how can we fix it you said it was just me as i am/acceptance) very confusing but wanted to say for you maybe i could stay still too. already i've used words i'm unaccustomed to, in person no less. remembering that april a polka dot zen master standing in my callejon or in a jeep or the spaces between on the way to bucerías your blue winding into the sea now missing the turnoff to san vicente, and again; what's a slip lane it's not like it sounds but a thing to move into with full purpose simply and in the sense of not flip flopping much like a line of a different kind, one that may not snap or crack.