with not withstanding
just composed, then sent, the following email message to a good friend. and now i've stolen the thoughts for posting. because i know he won't mind. because lately, i've needed help with the process. with figuring out any words to say.

---,

I opened the dictionary and first a picture fell out. It's one of me and my friend M-- in front of a building in P--. The wall, in gigantic mural form, declares the name of the downtown market -- Sassafras. Our faces reveal the silly pleasure of this discovery. So much, in fact, that we'd stopped our cab to wait for just that moment. And I remember him now, sitting just off to the right. Out of frame.

Then a word fell: [Crashed against me like something less cliché than a wave against the shore. How about an empty tin can into the garbage? A nightmare in an empty room? Those are all ridiculous tries. I'm still waking up.]

ispe dixit

I spent the night tied up in bad dreams. The kind that only let you really sleep for an hour, maybe two. That feel like entire nights or several days when you've finally broken out of them. Only to remain awake. Above or below the sheets. For another odd combination of hours. Until returned again to something awful that just can't quite be shook. That just won't leave you alone.

Now I need coffee. And a way to reinvent motivation.

If my love were light, it would smell like lavender vanilla. Always.

(in)combustibly yours,
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