January 17, 2023

the editing session

When Janis said, “It’s the elephant in the room” and over the next hour, we whittled 
things down. We were looking for the spine. We were returning to the bones. We were 
digging for gold, or whatever it is that lives beyond it. There was a screen between us,
and 3,000 miles, but we were face to face, and behind Janis I saw her stainless steel fridge 
and her bright kitchen, and a hallway. And her sadness— I saw that, too. And behind me,
Janis saw the wood paneling of the guestroom and an open door and a hallway. And my 
sadness—I think Janis saw that. We wrestled over the word “sculpted” and “upheaval”
but there was no arguing over the feel of “ocean” and “center” and “pink plastic wallet” 
and the phrase “I am,” which on certain days is an elephant in the room, or bones, or gold, 
or sadness, but mostly, the only thing we need to know about each other.