Nothing much tonight other than stray thoughts on my hands:

Small white lights adrift along pale pine trim. A little bar of dusty bottles and dried candle wax. Wet wine glasses glistening like tears.

I wiped down bottles untouched since this time last year when I had cleaned and cooked and finally sat on my ass with a drink as guests arrived. Tangerine light spilled from the fireplace, painting long shadows across the living room.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve, when I throw a party for anyone who wanders up the walkway with a bottle of cabernet. Happy Thanksgiving Eve, when I listen to laughter echo.

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Unbidden:

I pressed my cheek against a fleeting dream and swayed

and loved

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Ticking past Midnight and listening as rain hit the skylight, I tasted plaintive lyrics on my lips -- words, crying to be free.