Listen. I'm not going to be around for awhile. Not at the ends of your lines when they ring. No late night knocks on doors when you've stumbled in from drinks with friends and all you want's my familar words to linger in like wading pools for toes. When you pour out the last vestiges of that bottle of red wine. I just won't be there. But I'll be somewhere. Until I search my way back. Running as fast as I can toward you again. Eyes and palms wide. Ready.

Miss me. Miss you.

dog_gerel@hotmail.com