SEVEN. II.

1. Sometimes I want to show up--all of me. All the dark and pieced together parts. There is no gold to fill the cracks, just a death grip to make sure it doesn't all fall apart.  

Other times I'm grateful for the superficial connections. They take less energy. Less work.  

2. Curating my own work with the dream of self-publishing a book. Short stories, poetry, and photos.  

Universe, this is me asking. Please.

3. Ice cold coconut water and chocolate covered salted caramels.

4. The way errands feel like a date.  The intimacy of shared observations.

5. Three hours in the front yard today, four hours yesterday, and all this black mulch spread about. The greenery really pops now.  

6. He's barbecuing tonight and I know he knows I'll sniff him as soon as he walks back in the house. The smell of smoke on his neck is intoxicating.  

7. Fresh, white sheets. I can't help it; I love them.