I'm Still Awake

And, probably to anxious to fall asleep.

Today, I'm a puddle. Europe is on one side of the sky, California is on the other, the sun peaking through a quilted comforter with construction workers on it. You talked and talked until I fell asleep, mouth pressed to your shoulder, and you felt sort of soft next to me, like a fleece blanket, or a well-loved sectional.

Coalmine Canary still breaks my heart.

I'll probably fall down today.

I'll probably have to deal with everything I have neglected this week. I have a best friend with a full head of hair who is disappointed in me. I'm a flake, I'm a cheater, I'm not proud.

I'll probably cross the river later, the beckoning, mighty, Merrimack river, that promises me a boat thats a maple leaf, to drift out to sea, past Plum Island.

If I go to Chicago, its only because I'm running.