My voice is back to regular strength and my hand hurts like a you know what.
Last night Chris turned the tables using my stock lecture on me.
See usually it's Chris who's impaling himself.
When that happens I give him a big long speech about how this is a sign that he needs to slow down, pay attention to his surroundings, re-access his actions and perception.
Last night as I was on the receiving end, I realized it's a really annoying lecture.
But it's accurate.
Last time I hurt myself, over five years ago, it stuck me on the sofa for a couple weeks where I had nothing better to do than passively read poetry blogs and magazines. Something I rarely did before.
And now look at me.
I'm totally informed and shit.
Last night I dreamed that I showed up to the big dance. There were two rooms, I had no idea who was in which, so I randomly picked one. I saw a friend who was surprised to see me. He had not believed me before when I said I'd be back. I don't know why, like I told him in the dream, my word is always good.
I'm back, baby,
with a hole in my palm and a
teacup teeming with really good words
that I can't wait to pour in your lap.