fragments. i read a poem in the streetsheet called “i used to love the rain” – and tonight there is news of a homeless person freezing to death in our bay area snowy chill. my cold has progressed to the willy-wonka-colorful-globstopping stage and my throat is still sore. my parents love me. we spent the day together yesterday. we all watched the belly dancer last night at the kasbah and robert is nearly forty but several of his friends didn’t show up; i watched the woman across the room who looked sick and leanne roused sam up for bellydancing. kesin sent us a valentine and it made us happy and sad. i would love to be up playing in the snowflakes tonight and i haven’t nearly walked in the rain enough yet; i can frolic knowing i can go back to my warm home. can you go back to your home? do you have a home? is there warmth in this home? are we grateful, are we sad?

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