A little heart-broken today. The tone of my mother's voice. The girl at the bar Monday night. The way parts of the house feel cold even with the heat on.

I have been spending my days making things for other people to buy. I have been working until my fingers are sore.

It is another form of love: letting these things that are a part of me go.

Trying to get back to it, to get my wits about me. Today the snow and the rain fell around me and landed like crystals and tears.

I can't remember when I stopped singing my lover to sleep.

Driving home in the midnight light, stars bright above us and the moon a yellow shock behind Stage Fort. Every other car is a cab or a cop. Drive through the Fort, to find the moon again.

My city at night. It is quieter after I drop Jane off, up over Beacon Street and onto Washington. The cabs are driving like there are no lines and the streets are empty. The night shines down on City Hall. On Main Street. On the steamy laundromat on Maplewood Ave.

I miss you.