Lucky

Wake
From your sleep

A young Harvard grad jumps to take the room. How different it looks when seeing it through someone else's eyes: how much I could easily throw away. It's refreshing. I begin to pack in my mind; all I want to bring is stacks of paper, an unassuming painting over my desk, a bottle of liquor. She writes from the office bathroom to say he doesn't want me, and wonders how a room full of male coworkers will perceive her puffy eyes. We offer words of consolation, but what good are words? What are words but a substitute?

What are words but a substitute

The question is so terrifying I have to pack it away with the other things a young Harvard grad doesn't need to see. I pour a big glass of whisky, stare at the typewriter. There's a calm in me I haven't felt for months, in the silence at last the words arrive, hesitant, but there. What are words but a substitute.

Today 
We escape

We escape