how to chart this moody heart . .just give me this fast, hard moment . me breathing here, sleepless, but trying to steady myself, still restless and wondering,
when did i last feel my pulse:
summer in paris with abra . .both of us crying, listening to barbra sing those favorite songs of ours from "the way we were" and driving around the city . .a blur of stone angels and bridges over the seine. .
last saturday with anthony making fierce love .. the velvet green duvet and the candle flicker over his strong shoulders . .or last night . .embracing him. .saying over and over maybe a hundred times or more. ."i love you . ."
shaking so hard in my seat last weekend as i watched meryl streep in "the hours"
playing dar williams' new song "the beauty of the rain" over and over and over
talking to dawn the other night about poetry and cooking and table lamps
oh my pulse, my blood, my fire, my own lamp . .my spark . .my breath . .
if i find that . . .
i'll find me.
