I often dream of you. Not really you, necessarily, but the search for you. In these dreams, I am always walking city block after city block, tree-lined streets and scorching sun, so close so many times but always, always a dream. I wake from these dreams searching. Searching for meaning. I worry over coincidences, over…

A clip from the discarded pile; I wrote it on very little sleep. Sleepy like we stayed up because the stream of words flowed like a river full of snowmelt / sleepy like we dozed off as the sky turned from endless blue-black to something More and Less -rjm