There are clouds like heaven's bath tub ring, sticking to the nite sky.
There are plants with waxy dark green leaves growing in pots on the balcony.

I might be hanging up the cell phone at another red light not long enough yellow or I might be scuffling down the sidewalk outside my dance studio, noticing underripe fruits dropped at my feet - looking up it is another date palm. I might be doing anything, just minding my own business and

there it is.

There are lilies from a Lover mustering up the strength to open on the mantle.
There are organic cherimoya ripened perfectly in the kitchen for tomorrow's breakfast.
There is a big cup of ginger tea throwing up steam next to me.
There is a man in the next room whose face lit up when I came in to tuck him to bed.

I don't know why I feel like this again. I don't know why I feel sorry for people who love me. I do not know what to do to change this. I might be minding my own business, just picking out the clothes for the day and there it is, hanging around me, pressing down on me, whispering urgent blind lies into my mind. I might be relaxing into the bath tub and then the next thing I know ...

There is a dad who likes to hear the boring stuff as well as the exciting stuff.
There is a voicemail from a casting director inviting me to an audition.
There is a drawer that holds my panties and some of my favorite incense and there are five shiny fingersnails on the end of each hand.

So tell me why it has found me again.

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