After a good, long cry…

…I park outside Sarah’s apartment building, climb on top of my truck and sit there, eyes closed, focusing on my breath, a giant clump of air growing and shrinking. It feels like a baby, my breath, the way it needs, needs, needs to be held, released. Freedom! I say to Sarah. We are at Starbucks now, sitting together, focusing on the moon, gravity. She asks me what I’m thinking. I tell her about this Dorothy Parker poem. We both know it’s a good thing, the desire to live. We want it badly. Our love is fierce and brave. Our needs are sharp, ruthless. I want to cup the whole of our lives with my bare hands and show them to the Earth. I want to say thank you. Thank you.

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