There was an eclipse on the first day of spring

The washing machine flushing water through his dirty clothes sounds distinctly like summer rain, and reminds me of you.

The ants on the floor annoy me so I crush them with my index finger, but since I’ve spilled instant oatmeal in the broad crack between the floorboards, I think they’ll just keep coming back.

Zounds kneads my torso and falls asleep.

He looks especially like a baby today, but I spy a tiny cobweb hanging from the white whiskers above his green eye and realize he’s just a child.

I wonder how old he is and when he was born.

I’m going to a lighthouse, on the shores of a cliff, at the southern most point, of Rhode Island tomorrow.

I’m hoping it will be breathtakingly serene, and at that point, I will experience a subliminal psychosis.

Well basically,

when I turned 22,

there was an eclipse on the first day of spring,

and I couldn’t find the moon, but I knew it was there.

I mean, to put it bluntly, I’ve always loved you



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