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the smell of my desperation has become a stench
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the smell of my desperation has become a stench

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self portrait by Heather B. Armstrong for dooce.com

The where of my hair

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    The light Sometimes it washes over me Michael Sti The light
Sometimes it washes over me

Michael Stipe 
He put those letters into words
I heard them when Marlo was a distant blip
A wave in the heat that makes a sunset sweat over a ship in the Pacific

I thought he’d said love

“Love washes over me”

Until I heard the light in their eyes
And it clicked
When the writer put to page:

Light is auditory

Light and love and love and light
The same story
The same stage

Washing over me

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