we rode across the bay bridge and i left my visor up so i could feel the
night air against my eyes and smell the smells that are this city i call
home.  it is home.  i held on and shut my eyes and trusted completely because
there was no reason not to and it just was.  we just were.  it was late at
night and the air was warm and familiar and i didn't care when we got home
or where we went next because we were just being.  we just were.  and we rode
past the hostess wonder bread factory and the sickly sweet smell of white bread
baking filled the air like it always does at night and it was familiar too and
i smiled to myself as we rounded the sharp curve onto the mission street off
ramp no fear as the bike leaned over no fear as we accelerated out of the curve
just no fear at all.  we just were.

i walked through the airport through the corridor where he walked that day.
somehow i'd never been down that way before and all of a sudden it was so
familiar.  i pictured him walking with a book to his face and i pictued me
standing near the baggage carousels and i rounded the corner where we sat as
he finished the book and everything came back and it was so strong and i wanted
to reach out and say hey here i am but instead i walked through the room and
out the automatic doors into the parking lot where i ran away with my hands in
my pockets where i ran back to the car with my heart in my chest that day some
months ago and that's when it all started and that's when i lost control but
gained something else unnameable.  Do not defile it with cliche, it is 
unnameable.