i say i was mindful of mister not like mindfulness on the cover of a glossy magazine called mindfulness with a perfect girl in tights eyes closed serenely in the lotus position the most ethereal body smile stimulating sales of italian chocolate hazelnut biscuits at the long long slow checkout line at whole foods throbbing with what i call popper music. no, really mindful, because r. has taken me to task over being too loose with him, and yesterday when i was talking to some ladies he ran over to pat, then r. on the bridge, and i thought oh, he'll stay with her, but she said he said hi quick and gotta go! and ran on like he was catching up to me, and she got him to stop but then some park workers in vehicles crossed the bridge and had to avoid him coming back when he seemed to have cottoned to the fact that i was still back on the island and he ran to me and laid down at my feel while r. reprimanded me. so i get it, i've taken for granted, and it's like blood to my spirit, that we are connected by the soul, and we think about each other almost without thought, with the instinct that we formed together over our lifetime together. but i get it, we still have that, but i have to help him remember.

p.s. r. cried a little recounting the above, and i do something, i feel it, but i'm afraid of flooding, i channel the feeling, when maybe before i write i should cry, but i always wrote when i couldn't cry, and i think my words are tears sometimes.