my mouth is full of crystallized salt/i’ll never go to the yaffa cafe again

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the title of this post is a line that ran through my head last night as i lay sleepless next to my lover, wanting so badly to kiss him but also wanting to let him sleep because he had to get up early the next morning. you know, when you can’t sleep but you’re close to it and weird thoughts crystalize. the yaffa cafe is (or was? i don’t know if its still open) somewhere in nyc, the village or the lower east side, i guess. it represents this certain new york to me that i know i’ll never get back.
i had an intense dream about biking around the country with a gorgeous black dude with long dreads and we were just arguing about where to sleep when my alarm clock went off, and i wasn’t about to sleep in a field, not on an adventure at all, but in my bed. i was sad upon waking, i wanted to go back to that world. not that my world’s all that bad or anything, but you know.
i’m at the library right now and there’s a young-ish couple using a computer together and occasionally kissing passionately, two computers in front of me. a crazy-looking old man walked by them and yelled, “that’s beautiful!” in a rough-hewn voice. they looked uncomfortable and didn’t say anything back to him, but it was kind of nice.
tomorrow the lover and i go to philly to commemorate a sad anniversary. tomorrow it’ll be five years. whoa. i’m not looking forward to any of it, really, but it’ll be nice to skip town for a day or two.
i have exciting news! but i don’t wanna blog about it. not yet. soon. nate told the woman at the coffee shop and said, “she’s really excited about it, really!” which made me laugh hysterically. i said, “what are you, my publicist?” he said yes. but really, i’m just poker-faced and afraid of jinxing things. i blame it on my catholic upbringing. it’s a pretty easy catch-all of blame.

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