I remember when the light shone a lot differently in here. That neon billboard until 4am curfew, just slopping blue light across the neighborhood. None of us escape the light. Except maybe the shadowed fence corners or driveway alleys.

Which keep a single woman in short skirts walking the streets. Specifically the middle. At 4am I don't walk next to the dark corners, but right down the middle of the Hollywood street.

But it is 1am and the blue lights are missing half, and strangely early, now they are off. And I am left alone, oh thank you whatyouare for precious alone. Instead of cold blue emanating electricity, I am left alone with a warm glow. Not one candle, not two, but count them fourteen candles warming this room with rug centered over wood floors - my favorite barefoot dance - and memories of someonehim.

Such a powerful stimulant this remembering somethingnotyet that hasn't happened. It's an empty loveseat now, but I can see warmth there. It's a regular nite full of waxing moon. I want to sweat. I want to move these muscles until they are radiating heat you could stand back, maybe against the wall and feel. And just when it is time to stop, I wanna push through. I wanna find out what's on the other side. I want to do the things I do when preciously alone with someonehim near. I want to know myself. I want to live myself. I want to grow too big for this shape and take a new one. Less rigid. More vast.

More or less.

Right now I feel in love with everything. The music floating from the speakers. The tightness in my back. The blossoming jasmine I can not even smell with the windows closed. I love the words we spoke out loud today. And my ego feels stupid feeling like this. Like a hippie or some fluffy pagan, loving everything everywhere.

But it really feels good.

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