When life is leaving.

The house was regal. I was in an old forgotten house with a realtor. An old woman died too soon and various belongings were left out, meant to be mailed somewhere to someone that matters and someone that would care. A silk scarf, printed on it the most beautiful songbirds that I could almost hear singing when I picked it up. The smell was reminiscent of my dead great-grandmother Daisy. Reading glasses with a note, "These were my grandfather's." A half finished knitting project, a man's tie, a hanger padded with lace, all with notes about why these were important. It seemed like I had stumbled into my own house and I was the woman that wanted to remind you of my love and I was the woman with a tender heart and I was the woman that checked out too soon. And was forgotten. The dust in the home was thick and a beautiful painting laid on the floor exactly below from where it had fallen years before and the chandelier with its stained glass panes laid on the floor shattered at the foot of a grand staircase. I was sad. I wanted to buy this home and inherit this woman's mind, her love, her spirit.

It was the old Arkana salon turned mansion and Natalie Z. was already living there alone in an upstairs room with a window that look to the street. With Sally's help I climbed out the window and teetered on a roof too steep so I could feel the freedom of standing above a city. Then Tanya joined me, and out came Mary. I was shaking.

At the incense store a most beautiful black man with thick dreadlocks stood behind the counter and I danced for him and his drum beats that called to my body. There were pets in cages along the walls. I picked up the ferret and wanted to take him home with me. He attacked me. I was screaming and bleeding and his teeth dug into my skin in the sharpest way possible and he wouldn't let me go and my screaming continued and a woman came from the back saying "follow me" and I walked behind her trying to peel the rodent from my mangled hands and finally, in a dark room, he released his jaw and I put him in a box. She gave to me lizard as green as emeralds and I held it lovingly but it began to squirm. She said, "Hold tight!" I squeezed, afraid that I would kill it by smashing its innards and it bit me hard and I was losing flesh from where there was was no more flesh to lose and I screamed and bled until I ran into the dark room and put the lizard in the box.

I was waiting for him. I was waiting at Carson's house, waiting through an endless night that carried on for days without sunlight and darkness was everywhere. I was tired but I kept waiting. Ryan had to go home and I wouldn't let him drive so he rode my bike and I walked next to him in a heavy snowstorm. He began sliding, losing control, and too drunk to care or know, a car almost hit him but didn't and then he crashed into a man on a clown's bicycle. I was afraid my bicycle was broken. I told Ryan to walk home. I took my bike, pedaled onward, meeting a woman that told me Christy had dropped 4 packs of cigarettes and would I mind calling her so she could have them returned? We were in a house and I was cold and wet, naked and shivering from being naked in the snow because, I remembered, I left my coat as red as rubies at the pet store. When I looked down at myself the image of my bloody gnarled hands clutching my bare breasts white as milk scared me and I wept on the front porch, afraid, still waiting for him. Amy hugged me and Christy thanked me and I was alone again, very cold. I knew I should dress myself but I could not. He called. I was inside the house wearing a coat that was not mine and frantically searching through the pockets for the phone that could reunite us.

"Where are you," I ask. I wait. Silence.

"Where are you," I ask again.

"Please talk to me. It was dark and I need you to take care of me. I am hurt and bleeding and I think I will die soon." Silence.

"Are you coming," I ask, "I can feel life leaving me and I need you here, are you coming?"

Hot tears mar my porcelain cheeks and I plead with painful urgency for him to come. He replies, "I am going out. She's going to get me stoned."

The short response speaks his unspoken words and I know I am alone again and that I will die alone just like that old woman and I am already forgotten.

"Do you love her? Are you having sex with her?" My whispers are barely audible.

A pause, "I am going out and I don't know when I will be back."

And I scream for him, my voice chokes. I am outside, naked cold bloody, and I'm begging him to come. I tell him that I am dying and these are our last chances for love, please come. I am waiting for you. The phone is dead without him on the other end of the line and I am curled in a ball on the wet cement, nude, and the heavy snowflakes are a purer white than the skin on my body and I am so lost and hurt and afraid of death that my sobs make no noise but my body shakes with grief, my nude back exposed to all, my lungs expanding and collapsing.



This was a painful dream. When I awoke this afternoon from a lengthy nap and thoughts too heavy for my heart, I was shivering. Massive snowflakes were falling just outside my window and so I went outside to walk, to absorb the shocking experience of watching myself die.