I try to recall a conversation
from earlier this morning,
and I flip through each event over toast and coffee
like quietly subtracting a book from the shelf
at the town library.

Breaking the silence,
she offers me seconds on the coffee
knowing I am scrutinizing
the way her eyelashes curl around her fiery eyes
as if some kind of poetic meaning
would crawl out from the tufts of hair
thinned by chemotherapy
and settle at the bridge of her nose.

She mocks my way of turning breakfast
into a metaphor for sacrifice
(c)kmc

I had this dream about Aaron G., a kid on whom I had a crush for about 4-5 years between junior high and high school, the other night that's still haunting me today. In the dream, I saw him at "the old" church (I still can't get used to the church being in the building where the bank used to be) with his family. He was sitting with his dad on the side section of the small church until his father got up to go sit with the mom. Aaron then lay down across the seats. Mr. G had his glasses off and *wow* was he ugly, old and wrinkled compared to the young looking face he's always seemed to have. That was the last image of Mr. and Mrs. in the dream.

So, I got up to leave while church was going on and Aaron left too. I didn't have my glasses on (or contacts, but they didn't seem to be a factor in the dream), so when we were looking at each other, we just kind of stared and tried to comprehend who each other was. Once I recognized him, I wanted to say one last goodbye. I'm not sure if he was going back to the drug rehab or mental hospital or if I was going back home. I wished him well and went to give him an awkward hug. It was awkward because he didn't expect it.

He left the room we were in, but returned soon after and asked if I wanted to walk him out to his car. I was very excited as we went outside in some sort of wet weather, kind of slushy. We ran around teasing each other, but not entirely in flirtation. The game was more like a wish to be 12 or 14 again. Then, he went off to the edge of the church parking lot and started lapping water right out of a puddle. I tried to pull him away, but couldn't. Somewhat frustrated, but more oddly uncaring, I went back into the church. When church was over, my brother and I came outside and saw Aaron doing this still. My brother asked what was going on, and I attributed Aaron's behavior to his schizophrenia.

On an equally strange subject, this morning I was watching stupid talk shows to stay put and keep myself cool in the hot hot hot apartment, and I saw this guy, James Van Praagh, who is a psychic medium on the Maury Povich show getting audience members in touch with their dead loved ones. Van Praagh has written 2 books, Talking to Heaven and (Something else) to Heaven and I believed, to some extent, that he was actually communicating with the dead. He spoke to the audience members like the psychic I saw spoke to me, throwing out images and asking questions, "A hospital. Did he die in a hospital? Was he hospitalized before he died?"

What interested me was that Van Praagh said that dreams allow our spirits to communicate with other spirits. And I automatically thought of the dream I had about Gramma soon after her death (1996 from cancer). The dream involved her coming to tell me and Grampa that she was ok and for us to rest. That night before the dream I really was missing her, and nearly asked her to come to me.

So anywho, that's what's up with me. I spent a few hours reading my book at Barnes and Noble and then treated myself to soup, bagel and coffee at the cafe. Even though it's about 95 degrees here, it was so cold with the air conditioner, and I wanted some good food. And that I got. Spent my last 4 bucks, but I'm worth it!