the day has just come too quickly.
where I sit in the echo of the last hug
the wake of the conversation
of all kinds of
so badly the urge to
shove the emptiness away
simply pick up the phone and make a call
I will regret
made of words and feelings from past versions of myself.
it is as Lamott says
"butt in chair. shitty first draft."
and as much as tears are on the precipice, the laugh overcomes it.
for this too is temporary.
I am learning.
this is most of life.
tonight is just right.