11:00AM - 2005-1-02
baby monkey
The twenty-third of December and she's stopped by to drop-off my gifts. Up since the day before knitting, wrapping, and crying; she is exhausted. I'm tired as well. "Do you want me to stay over?" Yes. "I need a shower". Me too. We start the steamy water and shut the door. Troy is singing softly and playing guitar in the other room; she's still wearing her pasties from last night's shift. Everything feels like Christmas all of a sudden.
Down on the shower floor, I grip her soapy leg like a baby monkey; like an R. Crumb self-portrait. My eyes are closed, my head pressed tight against her thigh, and I'm thinking of another girl. Not another girl's leg, for there is no leg I'd rather be holding- and my love for the woman attached to it is profound. This jones is more complex: I want this other girl here. With me in this tragic, beautiful, here.
I am a criminal in love with an expert witness.
