supporting cds chock full of data.

tonight, after so much being poured on, all day, and a botched midterm--totally botched, because i should have been able to pull it together, should have--came home and freaked out at phone calls, news of unexpected extra bursts of schoolwork. but then kicked said schoolwork right on its ass and by eleven, had a bath drawn, a book prepared (stewed in my own meatbrain, har), and a letter tacked to the doorframe. called home once, again. pigtails and sliding over the railing, languid right eye. yeah, i know i have a fucked up face. s'ok. my lips are sore, smart from fruit juice. not the kind from the carton, the kind from the apple and the orange and the grape.

...

just went to the fridge for some greens or something, or leftover toasted acorn squash seeds (fall's bounty, a party favor-ite)--one of two pomegranates given as silent gifts last week and stowed away as treasure, forgotten thus, roll out to be from above the eggs. i break open a quarter of one and feast. and i wait for you, just in case, in case, because i love you and it's raining still. you're why i'm in bathtubs every day, you and cold air and my missing mittens.

so dark at 5.44pm, when i left the cathedral and got on the bus home.