02.03.18

5:48 p.m.

so the sun is setting.

the sun is setting. the wind is blowing and starting to pick up a little. dug and i, smoking cigarettes outside of embarcadero four. and down below us, over the balcony, people are walking quickly and not so and everywhere inbetween.

and all i want to do is get home. all i ever want to do is get home, and on the phone, and out. all i want to do is see her, to look into her eyes and see her smile. to be with her in her car, smoking cigarettes out the window. to kiss her. to feel her lips against mine.

sometimes i imagine what it would be like to come home to her. to have a place where she is at, where i can return to and have her be there. and to be there, at home, with her.

eventually, dug and i, we sit down. eventually we sit down between the shadows cast by buildings, catching what little light is left for warmth.

and out there is the ocean. out there, beyond us. the ocean. all deep and wide and blue. and i can feel it. i can feel it because, i too, am deep and wide and blue.

i am like the sky. i am open. i am endless and infinite.

i am my life, and my life is possibilities.

and in twenty minutes i will be gone. in twenty minutes i will be gone and done with job. in twenty minutes i will be out the door and down the street.

and eventually i will be home. home, and on the phone.

and she will be there when i call.