well_shit tender_square i was crying, which made it difficult to breathe through my nose. i did all the cycling through my mouth but it wasn’t the same; i couldn’t loop the breath and descend into the harmony of my body. i tried not to think; whatever amorphous fragments formed anyway centered on autonomy. when the timer chimed to mark meditation’s end, a sudden slideshow titled “portraits” popped up on my phone when i reached for it, covering the years 2017–2021. i watched in the dark, a series of smiling shots of he and i together in nyc with his family, and then nearly all the rest were of me, alone, modeling new clothes and daily outfits i’d sent to amanda. the slideshow closed on the last picture taken of he and i together at the arb last month; we’re too far from the camera—annaliese didn’t stand close enough when she took it—but we’re smiling in the distance. in the background, a service vehicle backs up with porta potties strapped to its truck bed. 211123 what's it to you? who go blather from