untitled in Exploring the Ad Infinitum-Continuum Galaxy

It’s cold-grey and Montréal-gusty.
The magnificent trees pulse.
The brilliant death throe begins.
The crickets’ chorus stretches thin when early-darkness cools to single digits.

Feeling trapped inside my head.
It never sleeps, this monster.
I’ve been lugging this (latest bout) around for five years.
Weary.
The view from the edge of the abyss is dull and flat.
In my recent dreams, a recurring image: I’m running again.
But it’s not the good-self-care kind of running I used to do, in real life, that I miss like a friend.
This running is escaping-something-dangerous running.

I wake up to city-sounds.
Jewish General and St. Mary’s ambulances are background noise.
Last night’s medication glues me to the bed.
Later, we drink the second pot, huddled on the couch.
We chat about space and history and why get dressed?
He runs his hands all over me and nuzzles in close.
He always speaks so kindly and patiently to me.
He is grey-bristles and eye-crinkles.
He still makes me laugh.
26 years later, friendship.

Last updated October 09, 2014