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| Won's hands are long and thin and graceful. His fingers unfold, spread forth
in a way that reminds me of curtains.
I like that I make him laugh. I hardly ever feel like a funny person, or a fun one,
but with him I do. I do.
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| "Our God
is an awesome God, He reigns
from Heaven above with wisdom
power and love. Our God is an
awesome God."
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| A week after our child was born,
you cornered me in the spare room
and we sank down on the bed.
You kissed me and kissed me, my milk undid its
burning slipknot through my nipples,
soaking my shirt. All week I had smelled of milk,
fresh milk, sour. I began to throb:
my sex had been torn easily as cloth by the
crown of her head, I'd been cut with a knife and
sewn, the stitches pulling at my skin -- and the
first time you're broken, you don't know
you'll be healed again, better than before.
I lay in fear and blood and milk
while you kissed and kissed me, your lips hot and swollen
as a teenage boy's, your sex dry and big,
all of you so tender, you hung over me,
over the nest of the stitches, over the
splitting and tearing, with the patience of someone who
finds a wounded animal in the woods
and stays with it, not leaving its side
until it is whole, until it can run again.
--Sharon Olds
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You've got the love.
You've got the love.
You've got the love I need to see me through.
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on Sunday, i fixed Fans a sandwich for lunch before leaving the house at two pm. she was stretched out on the sofa like
this, calling out goodbye. that afternoon, i worked on a lab, rushed off to the WSN staff writer meeting, then went
grocery shopping at Trader Joe's, and dropped by Strand bookstore. by the time i came home around eight pm, she was
still here at this exact spot, with her half-eaten sandwich sitting stale on the plate, looking all too comfortable (just her;
not the sandwich. frankly, the sandwich looked a little wilted). she hadn't moved at all since i left. as i put all the groceries
away, she woke up and called out for me to fix her dinner. i poked my head out of the kitchen and said, "No, Fans. you
haven't done anything productive today." with a sheepish lopsided grin she pulled up a copy of GQ and said, "Yes I did. I
did research."
right. because for Fans, flipping through a men's magazine = research.
sigh... but as Cookie Monster would say, Love is what last cookie is for. and even though i didn't have any cookies on
sight, i fixed her dinner and gave my last bag of Chex Mix to the lazy chomper. just another day with Fans as my sister.
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