I make myself close my computer so I won’t be compelled to refresh the Johns Hopkins COVID-19 map again. The house is quiet, my sister and the grandbabyman sweet-dreamin and Mouse still at work. The gentleman I fancy texts me sweet-nothings but keeps his suspicious cough on his own side of town. Which is how I find myself scrolling through FB as I try to fall asleep, and stumble into a live performance from Willie Tea Taylor. For the next hour, he regales us/me with stories and songs. It is the most comforted I’ve been since the shadow of the virus fell upon us here in California, so of course, I spend a good spell weeping. 

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