I found myself laying in bed this morning. The blankets
wrapped around my feet, exposing my midsection, then coming back up to cover my
shoulders and neck. I wonder when the bomb went off in the bed to destroy the
covers my love always makes. And keeps made.
I stir slightly when she gets out of bed. I hear her open
the dresser and pull out her clothes for pilates. I stay still.
I hear her put her shoes on and take the dogs out. I hear
their bowls fill with food, I remain still.
She comes into the bedroom and kisses me goodbye. I stay
still.
I reach for my book and in the dim light of my open window,
I read.
My memory strains to remember the last day I had with
nothing to do laid before me. I make a pot of coffee and forget about my cup
until it’s luke warm sitting on my night stand. I drink half of it in one sip.
11am comes around. I’m still in my pajamas. I’ve pulled my
laptop up close to me and started a slideshow. A slideshow of the year that’s
passed. I can’t keep track of memories unless they are followed by a
photograph. My memories not the best.
It’s two minutes before noon, and I still haven’t decided
what to do today. It’s hard to decide when you can do anything.
My mood is light, and full of conquering desires. I’ll make
today mine, however I decide.
