an entire week dissolved. windows open, curtains shuddering. spring almost. a held breath, skirt tucked between my legs. endless stream of interviews. we’ll give you a call next monday. my phone line dead. balancing & rebalancing the checkbook. class on the weekends: frustration in every direction. i raise my hand. i hee & haw. two women say i admire yr passion! tho i thought my delivery was dead-pan. a blank face, even better, head. i drop dead. i swim in my own skin. try to concentrate on bright spots, slashes of sun through the slotted blinds. blinds slapping, curtains still shuddering, splitting open, exposing all that they contain. exposing only my naked body moving as if a held breath, undetectable unless placed before a mirror.