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2012-06-18 - 6:02 p.m.

there are certain things that should be left


i came across your portrait in someone's online portfolio. at first i thought, you look like a boy. but no, that's not right at all. you look exactly like yourself, finally grounded and balanced, hands in pockets and hair tousled in front. self-possession and a level gaze read masculine in the absence of other cues.

do people change, or do we just learn new things about them? eleven years ago, i came home from jiujitsu practice and showed you the wrist grab escapes i'd learned that day. you went with me to the next class, because you hated the idea that i could break away from you. two years later, you picked me up by the throat and slammed me into the back of a door. i think it frightened both of us. we stopped being friends.

your emotions were stronger than mine - hurts felt more deeply, joys more intense, every need an aching void. when i look at these pictures, i feel little pieces of myself crumbling.

* * *

reading: jean strouse's biography of alice james, again.
listening to: perfect vision, icky blossoms.
working on: a bedquilt. the front has a feather design, and the back has simplified mariner's compass blocks set on point.
in the garden: there's a rat snake living under the front stoop. it goes down the stairs like a magic ribbon.

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