A Ghost's Ghost

What is in the end to be despoiled,
Begins by being first richly endowed.

Lao Tzu

Here in Providence I confront my utter insignificance. Here I am a stranger to brush past, to shoulder aside, to step around. I see myself skim frictionlessly over the curve of the cosmos like a drop of oil over a lettuce leaf.

In Tucson, the same things go on, only now without me -- as if I ever truly were crucial to their functioning. The same people drive, shop, eat, fight and fuck. And she and he are still there, the latter doubtless counting his money, the former biding her time. I hope she strikes, and soon. Pitilessly, completely lacking gratitude or a sense of reciprocity -- as she did me.

But this sequel will go unviewed, unsavored. It will tumble dumbly down steep slopes to silence and I will always be as I am: far, far away.

I wish I could have been to her for one day -- one hour -- too beautiful to forsake.