Brief things: kisses hurriedly exchanged before slipping into work late; boiled-three-minute eggs; the Turkish mousetrap salesman staring out from a photo in the August Sander exhibition at the MOMA; black country birds taking a holiday in the city singing redwinged for seeds under bush; pigeons wandering into the coffeeshop, to peck between ankles and tablelegs; his hair cigar-aromatic, Exquisito between thumb and index finger. Fellini's 8 1/2. Pale pink lace peeking from under delicate black polka-dotted dress. Books: a history of walking, a bio of Lana Turner, Ruth Ozeki's My Year of Meats; I read restlessly, cheating on one author with another because I'm that sort of lover, a restless, selfish lover of text, cities, the things that can never give love to me, only be loved briefly.

Soon: Disconnection of self from cell phone. Ben and Dipti, you should expect letters soon.

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