as is, or, formerly

dec 22
cluster of chinese men standing by the bathrooms and drinking beer. the flight attendant yells something in chinese across the aisle at them as she shoves a cart, once full of duty free jewelry and perfumes, now ravaged by the greedy first and business passengers, towards the secret stewards' dock at the rear of the plane. they yell back at her and laugh as we sail, lights out, over dark and silent russia, breathing deep sleep breaths across the expanse of asia. a baby cries.

dec 23
i love you. i've been abusing those words a lot lately and it feels good, even if I don't deserve it, to say them in the right way. not compensating for anything, or patching up the splits in my own character, just putting them down where they belong for once. burying them, maybe, but really and finally.

dec 24
my feet in the water, my guts being propelled across the pink and gold streaked sand of the beach on which I grew up ecstatically half drowning myself... home, sort of

dec 25
suitcase for christmas. eternal visitor in my own life. want to go away from myself, get a little farther, stretch away from me. put my finger down on a thumbtack to measure my own thickness. too thin. red meat and red wine for dinner. a cold sulks on the horizon and meddles with my sinuses. bats in the many layered evening.