on the train from new york (excerpts)

7/27/2008

"wow" is the best compliment i could have received as i came down the stairs.
i kiss like a woman, not like a girl.
you are beautiful, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

i wonder what i will look like when i get old. i wonder [often] what old women looked like when they were young. i aspire to be a crone...


sketches on M.C., 4 years later:
too old for her age. hard on the outside--thick--but soft if you can reach her. ice-blue eyes that burn like acetylene. soundgarden, mudhoney, pearl jam and nirvana. confidence that is usually genuine. beautiful to those who don't know they're looking for it.


lewistown junction, 3:46 pm
mommy is home! daddy and two little boys are waiting to greet her and her friend with flowers, hugs, and kisses. the smiles on their faces, and the way daddy kisses his wife, trying to hug her with a stroller between them, busy and adult and yet so full of how much he has missed her, brings tears to my eyes. not jealousy--anticipation.

as we pull away from the station, five children and one woman are sitting on the curb, waving goodbye. i and the woman behind me wave back, and i wonder if they can see us.


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"ice-blue eyes that burn like acetylene" is my favorite phrase that i have ever written.