Returning to the world.
She's drinking sweet wine straight from the bottle before noon in her purple landscape. Something in the refrigerator stinks. Something else is careening behind the scenes, and I can feel it from here. Let's just pretend it's alright. Dominican brunch spot. Hot as blazes. She says men don't want reiki anyway.
I don't mix much these days.
I brought home some smoked salmon from Portland. I listened to the sound of the fan all day long. I took a look at my car insurance bill. I saw myself reflected on a computer screen while on a Zoom call getting rapidly sick of therapy-speak and vocal fry and the appearance of my own face.
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