19 december

event. you can see the pacific from the kitchen balcony this morning. a blackbird flies low out of the pomegranate tree, dew sheds from the springing branch. a long shower and someone has stolen my shampoo. cold. good light. all the furniture is shoved to the center of the living room. it stands without ceremony. it looks ashamed, or maybe defiant. who can read a couch? we've painted, for the worse and the better. the curtains are gone. you can never see the pacific from the kitchen, just the light reflecting off of the water. seaside property, a cool mil for a peek up the skirt, for ten years of living next to an almost ageless thing. i almost see the ocean, just a big mirror of my reflection life, sprawled open-legged and slattern under everbody's sun.