At least I'm eating again. I don't sleep, not until 3 am, then the alarm rising out of the darkness at 8. I dress, pour coffee, sit in the car and drive to the farm, beautiful. All those years and I took it for granted. The chain blocks momentum; I piss squatting over the porta potty. We will go to the waterfall after we've hiked to the tops of the rock cliffs and I've scuttled hands-to-boulders out to the edge, stomach flipping look-down hundreds of feet oooo! Wet bird hitches wings wide to the sun, twirling to catch the light. Take your time; I'll leave you be. Sips from rock puddles, eyes me. The descent, cobwebs swaddle the wet skin of my arms, my stomach, my ear, my chin. A fly slams into a web. The spider darts forward, spears. Slinks backward. Waits.
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