March 20, 2006

I’m waiting for a new name. I have a friend. He calls me love. He calls me beautiful and loveliness and sweetheart. He calls me his joy. But somehow, these are not my name. Not because they are not true, but because I can’t hold them anchored inside of me. They keep flying away before I can swallow them, and then I keep looking. I’m looking for someone else to name me, instead of him, and so I remain nameless. It is an awful thing to be nameless. When you are nameless anyone can christen you and you swallow it down like a potion - poison and panacea from the same smeary beer glass, and none of them fill you. My friend is so patient. He keeps calling me beloved and dear one and daughter. I would like to be a daughter some day.