October 3, 2023

NOTE: Below are unrelated lines I’d written over the past few weeks. I invited readers of my “10-line Tuesday” newsletter to to add a line (or two) between them that could serve as a bridge to make them fit. I’ve posted the collection of poems I received here.

I almost had a baby with my friend from San Francisco.

We were walking in the snow, and it dawned on me how lucky I was.

This was so different from the last time we spoke.

You could see our breath moving in drifts in the cold air. 

I understand something more now, from a distance.

It’s not beautiful, exactly, but I feel this tenderness.

As if I’ve been unburdened of a bee sting. As if the venom wore off.

I don’t know what I mean when I say that.

I think we are missing each other in a way we can’t quite put our finger on.

There are gaps we may never fill in.