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  1. The Steam in the Mirror, the Fog from the Sea (part 1)

    Maybe it's just a question of an inch or two Yes: I see you nod. ...

    - 2008/03/26 - 6:03am - 1 comment

  2. The Steam in the Mirror, the Fog from the Sea (part 2)

    The fountain that my own fingers recall, nothing like this: Drawn from a pond, a puddle. But, oh, how I felt an ocean of you crashing in. Ocean: warm saltiness of life, thick with potential, humming with energy barely contained, condensed of beating heart ...

    - 2008/03/26 - 6:02am - 4 comments

  3. The Steam in the Mirror, the Fog from the Sea, part 4

    I try to shape my days now by my work. Numbers in charts, words battered out of a keyboard, spit out from a whirring printer: Let's say it is work like that I do, work meant for grey-walled cubicles under flickering fluorescent lights. ...

    - 2008/03/26 - 6:00am - 3 comments

  4. The Steam in the Mirror, the Fog from the Sea, last part

    Halfway across the river, the ferry turns. The gulls, as always, surprised by the boat's movement now wheel and dive, complaining cries as they take up their stations once again. The turn means a breeze from a fresh direction can ruffle hair, feather ...

    - 2008/03/26 - 6:10am - 5 comments

  5. To Touch a Palm, part 1

    It was getting dark when I got there, and I'd managed to get off the wrong exit, too, guessing downtown was where it wasn't, as I always do. It meant an anxious tour through the dark and empty streets down by the river, looking for a place to st ...

    - 2008/03/28 - 8:20am - 2 comments

  6. To Touch a Palm, part 2

    You always worry, can they see? Is there something, maybe the way you've let your hand relax or your wrist bend, despite all the times you've caught yourself and clenched your fingers, straightened the curve. Something-- the way you hold a hand ...

    - 2008/03/29 - 5:52am

  7. To Touch a Palm, part 3

    By late afternoon, I was feeling pretty sure I'd called it right to come up here. I phoned the boss, reported not quite as optimistically as I felt and told myself that I was clocking out. The evening rush home had started, horns and rumbling of moto ...

    - 2008/03/31 - 5:05am - 2 comments

  8. To Touch a Palm, part 4

    It's not as simple as desire, not just a layer, or even two. It's art. Perhaps it was when I lifted my foot, to untie my shoe, and pants rose just enough to show the smallest band of smooth and newly-shaven skin, that we decided on a painting, n ...

    - 2008/03/31 - 5:11am - 1 comment

  9. To Touch a Palm, part 5

    I watched deep blue lighten to gray, felt that extra stillness, extra quiet of a weekend morning in a strictly-business downtown. Standing by the hotel window, I stared down the long, straight, empty streets of this place I didn't know, at all the ho ...

    - 2008/04/01 - 4:49am