patrick kerry when we first met i was both attracted and put off by your sarcasm and subtle hostility. that was a couple years ago, though, and after encountering you again, i’m seeing that we have more in common than i realized. or perhaps i’m imagining that i understand this much about you and can relate. i do know that this is a conversation we’ll never have, and the sense of kinship will always be one-sided. that’s how you prefer it anyway. you said no one should ever do this to another person—i think that’s more or less how you worded it. our histories are different but the certainty of your statement resonates with me. your enemy had a physical presence, a withered body and sharp tongue, while mine was an event, a rupture, a tidal wave, an unwelcome question. our hands tremble so we shake our heads violently like a dog trying to scratch its itchy ears. there are so many voices, little arguments, banter, puns, distracted humming the same song over and over. the party is packed with unwanted guests, sloshing champagne and buzzing with rumors and gossip and assumptions. i didn’t want to come but knew i’d regret staying home. can’t decide if it’s better to be lonely alone or in a crowd, don’t want to be left out and forgotten, but when they come close–how have you been, what are you up to?--i want to fall through the floor. so here we are, slinking along dark wet streets in our heavy coats, pallid skin and bruised eyes, dizzy from the arguments in our heads– don’t touch me come closer, i’m cold if i hide here, maybe no one can find me if i hide here, what if they can’t find me? 220322 what's it to you? who go blather from