I have broken all my vows

Coming back to writing after a big long gap like a gap between teeth
Lots in between: a fair amount of dying and a fair amount of living
Sitting in the back of a hot car, choking on a plum
The throat clenching, unfurling, thickening—
a need to jump out but the child’s lock is on and I can’t —
Watching C. run through the umbrella pines, almost child-like
An attempt at another inner work weekend — the kindness
of strangers, the exhaustion just beneath the skin, in the fascia,
an inability to confront something; the way he walked in the garden
holding the drinks, his eyes flashy and blue as a kingfisher’s,
the tattoo on the back of his tight leg a surefire accomplishment,
canapes and drinks and rain — warm English summer rain! — and
tiredness again, there, there, stopping the organism from dancing;
why keep a public journal in this way? that question; the inside is light
and warm and there are plans for sword fights in September.

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