Decanted

Good evening.

It's another hot night and the moon's glowing a moody orange as a result of some astrological event that I choose to keep a mystery by not googling it.

You can see it perfect through the skylight.

I folded up Jonathan's straw meditation mat and stacked it on top of the bar stool to get the best view from the counter. I just took a tepid shower and I'm in my white jcrew boxer-briefs. I got my feet danglin'.

It's tranquil. When Maria was here yesterday, she said it's like camping. Windows open to the morning, the woodpecker doing his thing on a nearby telephone pole. Tuktuktuk. She woke up smiling, "Did you hear the woodpecker?"

I said no, no. That was me. I was pecking you with kisses trying to wake you up. Up and down your spine.


Earlier I went to the gym. I hadn't been in a long time. Maybe that's why I feel especially relaxed tonight. All my energy has been decanted and poured back into me smooth and airy.

I've got my perch.