I lay beside you, holding your hand in that twilight of touch before sleep
That slippery sleep
Beneath my hand I feel the rise and fall of your breathing
And I change my breathing to match yours
Inhaling and exhaling with you
Adrift in our sea
Rising and falling together
We are a wave, moving across the night
Finding our way to secret shores
If I felt your heartbeat, could I match mine to yours?
And beat as one heart?
One breath, one heart
In this way, I want to dream
With you, as one
Floating on into the endless tide
Vonnegut on TV [Timequake]:
“In the early days of television, when there were only half a dozen channels at most, significant, well-written dramas on a cathode-ray tube could still make us feel like members of an attentive congregation, alone at home as we might be. There was a high probability back then, with so few shows to choose from, that friends and neighbors were watching the same show we were watching, still finding TV a whizbang miracle.
We might even call up a friend that very night, and ask a question to which we already knew the answer: ‘Did you see that? Wow!’
Ain’t the future grand?
Nothing seems permanent here anymore – things and people and my relationship to them. My future with them feels slippery. Things happen, they could go away at any moment, and often do.
I should start saying to people and things, before there is distance:
“Thank you for the pleasure of your proximity. I hope we meet again.”