age being no more than gravity, birthday no more than a date, nothing is different, or everything is

drunken ricocheting has left my left knee swollen and useless. i checked the mercedes this morning for dents. amazed still i got down those stairs, into the house. amazed i wore that shrink-wrapped red dress but maybe it was the influence of the valium and whisky sours, maybe the ceaseless compliments, maybe because in that moment i looked in the mirror and saw what everyone else sees. wrap that image up and send it to me in the post, won't you? two days gone and i will have forgotten what i saw there once, the shimmer around my eyes, stark eyelashes and a hum of formae. birthday radiation. or blame it on the vodka-st.germain's-and-lime shots in quick succession. whatever it was i'm embarrassed by nothing of the night, first time in forever. 

a supernal bowl of udon noodles with truffle oil and goat cheese, a half bottle of V8, a lie-in in the soft morning light, the spaniels asleep on the pillows above my head. i felt almost balanced. something at last made sense. 

don't expect this to last. brain already reminding me the stark truths: egg-and-tortilla splattered back up. bent over at an angle. knee throbs and makes me gasp and see white and the familiar panic flutters back to its old nest between my ribs. 


back to the foregone fight but i'm still in last night's makeup. yes faded, but not smeared; vestiges of beauty, of a solidity deserved. 


i must not forget.