  Julianne Moore here the only mirth is in the sky. caught in little air pockets away from the sea and hands reaching. here i touched her long braids which hung down soft shoulders covered in freckled skin. she smiled as the wind whipped a strand across her pale forehead and i saw a stretch of red running beneath the blond. so straight the wind takes the kink out of it it follows the lines of her frame down through her knees into the land. In her, i see me. I see the way her hips round only slightly and her feet plant themselves sturdily in the rock. She laughs, and the wind laughs with her. it follows the curl in her tongue. Here i find my hands awkward next to her slender fingers and my feet stumble while she walks strong and tall.
My laugh is hollow and looks back at me puzzled as if it doesnt know why it was let out in the first place. her voice is never too loud. my scalp feels tight and my face puffs out and i love her like you love a movie star behind glass mirror on her side and window on mine: dodging my own reflection. 1.21.2002 
