The landing in Sao Paulo was rough. The grab-your-armrests-and-grit-your-teeth kind of rough. But we and the plane survived. “No plane crash metaphors in your next song,” Bart muttered as we taxied.
When I woke up Ziggy was wearing me like a cape. We were nowhere near the pillows, curled in the center of the bed, with my arms around his neck/shoulders and the rest of me draped over his back. I freed one arm and pulled one edge of the duvet over us and then nudged […]
I lay for a long time on top of the bedspread with my clothes on, thinking, thinking. I couldn’t even remember half of what we had just said, which was unusual. Usually I could play back a traumatic exchange like a movie. In fact, I was usually helpless to stop the endless replays. But it […]