do sneak cigarettes late at night

they pulled my hair at charm school.

they stole my guestbook during rolecall.

do: think of paper tigers on china plates, + december the 15th = we ate at ghenet on mulberry st.

spend saturday walking brooklyn neighborhoods with beau. cold air presses against my chest as we peer down streets held down by rows and rows of brownstones. one street yields trash and dog shit; one street showcases meticulous gardens; one gives us hipsters and pricey lunch spots and babies in carriages.

on montague st. i am inexplicably overtaken by a serious wave of nausea. explain to beau that it feels as though my vital organs are replicating at warp speed and pushing against my rib cage. he eyes me oddly and suggests we buy a bottle of water. 67 cents and one stomach-ailment-aid pill later i feel well enough to catch the f train back to the west village.

i keep thinking of a certain lost tiger from book i read when i was little. (an old book, it may have belonged to my mum when she was little, in which a tiger escapes from a city zoo and is saved by pale girl with blonde hair and white knee socks.) keep thinking of pale tigers & the apartment in cobble hill with blue walls & a blue bathroom & saturday night drinks at roxy with j. & r. in which we heard stories of a wrapped bride in israel & graduate school plans & all of the hours folding together in such a way as to make the weekend seem like a dream.

drive back to massachusetts takes over six hours. snow & sleet & messy roads. abandoned fenders (license plates still attached!) cling to guard rails like severed limbs and make me feel nervous. we need to stop twice to clear ice from the windshield.

at the 70's house beau and i fall into bed at eight thirty p.m. night air mixed with snow makes the room dusky instead of dark. one arm and one leg around his long body. the two of us = falling asleep all bare skin & blankets; the light left on in the hallway.

wanting to return there all day & sleep forever just like that... it rivals the night of perfect sleep found friday on 11th street.

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ghosts!