We danced last night, in a bar located on the Tropic of Cancer. A thatch roof above, street dogs weaving their way through the fray.

The roar of the ocean rolling onto the sandy shore. A bright white moon above. Large, pale bellied bats flitting around a lone streetlight.

I meet a woman whose brother in law graduated from the same highschool as myself. She holds my hand tightly as she's saying goodnight, it was nice to meet you, how long are you here, I hope to see you again.

The dog’s head resting on my thigh as I sit at the bar finishing my beer.

***

I wrote that and nothing more. I wish I'd written more each day. Maybe I'll write more later.

"What did you like the best about our trip?" I ask him.

"Climbing over the rocks to get to that secret beach," he says, "and all of the sexy times with you."

***

For the past week, I've had an aching for a child, to create a family around myself. The feeling is this: there is a hole in my life that only a child could fill. There is a space sitting empty beside me. There is excess love going wasted.