my bath water was steaming tonight, almost painfully hot, and i rise skin red and tingling. i'm taking baths often lately, after stretch class, or when i feel cold in my bones. i find myself hoping, wishing the water could be hot enough to contain magic. a special potion that could relieve the tension of living life in the process of all things difficult and intangible. and when the steam rises, it could carry bad things away.


is it possible that the steady pulse i heard when sinking my ears underwater was my own heart beating?


the candles burn. mp3s too, and tonight i can't help but long for a perch next to a second story window in my parents home. though i walked in a tank top through the california sunshine tonight, i am aware of the beauty of snow falling in distant places. the places of my youth. the place where my family lives.


it is quiet there, the street lights speak their light and give shape to descending pieces glittering. my father's face is flushed from shoveling, and my mother peers into the fridge with her imagination. cars inch forward with patience, and lights burn in windows foggy and moist on the inside. the dog is my company on walks driven by an illusive hunger i may never fully know. there is peace and sadness both.