The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs - I Think I Need a New Heart
[ dignity ]
The calluses on his hand have all gone away. they are back to having the softness of a child’s hands. still, the shape of his fingers tell the story. the wrinkles on the top side of his hands, particularly the knuckles, tell the story. the shake as he reaches to greet familial strangers with the his cloudy eyed stare tells the story. his ten feet per minute pace tells the story. he sits and listens. sits and listens. sits and has no idea about that which he has forgotten. in the beginning we teased about how he was just fucking with people. an exchange of winks for the insiders. he has forgotten to wink. one blanket, one person, same channel, same thing everyday. no more sweat. but now he pisses himself from time to time. slow walks to get clean. questions about so and so and where they’re at. fearful shouts for company. in and out of sleep, waking up lost. they tirelessly attend, waiting. the answers to his questions well rehearsed. timed. touching the skin above his frosted brows is the easiest way to say it’s okay. the slow tilt of his head toward them accompanied by that same cloudy eyed stare only this time with a smile. “Que chulo, mijo,” followed by a whispered chuckle. Tough, like the calluses were. Just waiting now.