HEY RC

Hey RC,
I miss you. I'm so tired of analyzing everything I used to wonder about.  I like a peach wall in a quiet bathroom.  I like the thought of things that can't be explained, but still shirk at Matthews and Marks, also those who claim to know "the truth."  You and all them always say I have a way with words but let me ask you, what kind of things are they to have a way with?  They aren't even things, really; no spaces in between, just some outflow of noise & juice; blood, saliva, pumping, teeth, a human music that struggles nonstop to connect the body to the invisible. I like William's elephants holding each elephant's tail, the circus-won't-find-the-park and all that, especially the diagram on the diaper changing station where the mama elephant is looking at  baby and daddy elephant is smiling and looking forward.  I like believers & their heaven, sometimes.  I like a patient and boundaried people who will get us there (who are they again, my friend?).  I like the mixed upheaval that breaks open into meaning.  Come back to me, RC.  I miss you.