Rooted, I used to think.

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Week Four - Wednesday, Apr. 08, 2020
The Close Dance - Monday, Mar. 30, 2020
The Children - Friday, Mar. 27, 2020
Lockdown - Sunday, Mar. 22, 2020
Social Distancing - Wednesday, Mar. 18, 2020

Monday, Mar. 16, 2020 @ 11:06 pm
Love in the Time of Cholera

He sends me a poem. I read it and taste the words on my tongue. The salt, the sun, and togetherness.

Did you write this?


I've come to call it The Earthquake. Oh, I used to have a blender but I lost it in The Earthquake. And just over a year later, here it is: another earthquake.

Everyone is home. I've never seen so many apartments lit up, incandescent rectangles against the night sky. We make love on the couch under the glow of everyone being home. For a moment I forget about everything except his for his hands and the ever surprising response of my body.

We are both actually ill, him moreso than me. He coughs, and I press the heels of my hands into my skull in an attempt to ease the ache.

Maybe something will happen that will cause me to say it without thinking.

That something has happened.

And I'm going to set my ego aside and just tell him.

I know how to jump into the abyss.

And that there is ecstasy on the other side.

Roots | Shoots