A good day for beginning again – excellent really – can’t believe I still have this amount of fight left in me – can’t believe how little I really show or am known – and when I strip my skin to show the glowing bones and to let the world behold me – it’s not pleasant – I see how much work there is to do – how much I am unworked much of the time by my subconscious design – and it would be misguided to take these waves seriously – they speak so little of the entire ocean – but of course they must be considered when stepping in – came crashing against the rock and almost knocked us over this morning – almost didn’t see that huge boulder spit from a volcano eons ago – and the salty cold not quite pleasant – but then through the fray and in a cessation of ocean spray I saw you clearer than I ever have – a strange, temporal light bathing your glistening face and body just in time for a moment in time – and we emerged without words a little closer than before – a little closer than before – you came last night, came into my dark quarters – rubbed my writhing belly – touched my human agony – this is not unusual, this is ever-present, this is real, this is not the full story – but in my gracious displays I’ve kept certain rooms under lock and key – and I am tired of gathering dust – tired of the lonely way that my voice echoes there – tired of sitting on the veranda, sipping tea, telling ghost stories – I want to fling open the tattered curtains and invite strange light in – I want to be an open door, see, not an open book.