Sitting at the tiny Formica table of an apartment/hotel in Hialeah, Florida– half a block from the race track– drinking a beer, worrying about my job. A re-run on television of Bonanza is lulling sweetly from the other room. 

Splashing gently and Richard taking a shower. Walking around the room naked– joking. I just put a cold beer can against his ass and he hit me.

God. I love him.

Home-cooking is carrying me like some soft old ship through my days.