novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- two thousand miles i've roamed we listened to otis redding and puttered around in the kitchen, cats panting because the oven was on. she turned up the volume so his voice lifted through open windows, a musical breeze for lack of cool air. people were out walking their dogs at eleven. everyone looked wide-eyed and awake. sharp and at home, like pine needles. i read for a while and felt something dislodge. i've decided not to talk about it anymore. 9:59 am - 03.17.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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