I’m dropping services like flies. just ask my landline. gone baby gone. things gone.
lighten up. brighten up. if i could sell all the words I’ve got, i’d do it. let ’em loose.
set a fire, let it burn. but. . .
I’ve got a list going of things not to forget, not to forget. what’s important to remember, forever.
baby feet.
the smell of breastfed baby poo.
the ways my boys try to get in my lap still, rolling over the backs of sofas, sprawling half in and half out of wherever i am.
laughing until i choke with my daughter on one of her last nights sleeping in my bed. I don’t know when it’ll end, I just know its on a countdown.
righteous anger.
the floorboards in the pawtucket house. little hands crawling. children falling asleep against my body.
roxanne, the best beagle. her ears.
each of my many painting phases. that time i made angels of fabric. and quilts.
conscious communicating. working at it. being curious about origins of feeling. uncovering. always trying. remember.
my dad’s hands.
the rings on Kate’s hands.
the joy of turning a phrase.
Love love,
Me.
