Exhausted. Trying to tap out the last few sentences of a long, tedious evening at work. Sixty dollars and lead eyelids, the knot in my neck held in place with a knitting needle that stabs deep into memories of sleep. The night before was lovely, wrapped around Jewels napping on a rooftop. The view of Manhattan could be seen over the edge of the blanket. She snuggles into me for warmth and tells me under-blanket thoughts about her new boy, skin, and bobbing fragments of her days since I last saw her. Other friends come and fill in gaps--a friend rubs my neck for a moment, another brings me bourbon. Heavy paws on my belly signal that the dog has finally approved of me. Jewels says he is jealous of the attention. I'm not sure that I care why. Wiggling my fingers, I try not to move further. Arm asleep, I look up and find the big dipper, Venus, a few scattered stars. It is nice to fall asleep next to someone for once; it is as rare as seeing stars in Manhattan. I feel very small, falling into sleep.

And today, I woke up rested except for that knot. It is pigtails and sunshine, conversation on the porch, and walking through Brooklyn. I pass a pastel father's day sign that prompted a conversation with my dad. A man sings to himself loudly in spanish, the white cord of his cavalcade dangling from his ears. He bows deeply as I pass. "Muchas, gracias Senor" I reply and he smiles, half full of teeth.

Now, exhausted, I watch the tree across the way clump against the sky and wonder why I cannot sleep. A couple hours of rest, perchance to dream or drift into deep purple places. Soon, it is time to get up and run to gather passports with Jill. In a few weeks, Paris.