07.28.03 :: 8:53 am

We had this amazing two hour conversation last night, after dinner, after the sweet dirty business, and we talked about what you talk about during thunderstorms while a band from Mali plinked away on the radio and the backs of knees are damp.

We smoked cigarettes in front of his open bedroom window, feet touching, the kind of bed-laying you do when it's really warm out. And the night sky was periodically illuminated by lightning, and the breeze was warm and electrically charged.

We talked about what you talk about after the physical act, faces millimeters apart, hands stroking sweaty temples.

Later he read me something he wrote. And I was honestly stirred.

We find ourselves in the same place.

Cautious, but hopeful.

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