8:159) chris abraham 07-APR-98 11:19

leigh words, not chris words: i had a massage sunday evening. church. shadowed light planking in low through a cracked half-shaded window, north dupont circle. wafting incense, softer wafting classical compositions. i was a beautifully threaded bead necklace. all my parts differing sizes shapes colors, all strung together limpy together in his hands, lying atop the table as if atop a dresser, dangling comfortably around the neck of the world as i departed.