exhausted of Bruce? It’s probably
mostly ecstasy. Fuck it doesn’t feel
right. We had a long conversation.
A first after a whole year. A first
conversation. I can’t write any
more. Two lip variousness.
Smoking feelings. Hanging
off the edge of a cliff, best
mood in months—crescendos
for weeks into Kleenex. Mom’s
in New Mexico under something
aluminum. A rat attack. They’re
all appropriate with disappoint-
ment. The fawn left
the family feast.
