Monday June 4, 2018
From an interview by Devin Friedman
Do I have to leave this? I’ve built a warm thing to lay in. My head is heavy. My eyes blink slowly. What is it about grey mornings.
Don’t say they’ll turn into something beautiful. It’s always too late when this city decides to help me out.
I think it’s sadness?
It feels like it.
Laying, laying, not moving, sort of staring
I think another body in the bed would change the shape of things.
Make me sink a little toward the middle.
Make me have to get up in the night.
Make me have to come right back and settle.
Today is hard.
If I admit it maybe it will get the validation it needs and move on.
Maybe tomorrow won’t be so needy.
I slept with all my clothes last night.
Sweater, pants, socks.
Another body in the bed would require shorts or nothing.
Another body in the bed would be built like a furnace, jobbed and ready to heat whatever is close and shivering.
I’ll ask Jesus if he knows where to get one.