He called last nite. Gary.
sometimes, i swear, he is driving me into the breakdown
lane. and i know we all end up there once in awhile. but
-that i may never get out.
i don't think He has any idea how dangeous He is to me
now. He is like a hurricane against my stabilty; which is
only a shack made of plywood.
and i've told him "Gary. i." "i Love You,"
with golden sincerety. what else can this be but Love?
i don't know. i sometimes answer myself, i don't know.
and when i say this, He always smiles. and in all ways i
get caught in the cleave of this smile. and i can't hear anything he
replies to me, but i feel it. and god, does it