Gorgeous Julie, tiny Julie, nebulous Julie-- 
cardinals singing, "Julie, Julie, Julie, 
wake up, wake up, wake up"--
asked what a day off looked like for me.
She said it could be Saturday.
I couldn't answer,
denied the question.
Half an hour later,
she slipped a REESE'S Peanut Butter Cup into
my chalky cold
pixelated hand.
That night when I shifted up to the ceiling, 
disassociating from the party--
"So this is what's happening:
cards and words and laughing and circles and
loud metallic chip and took note, and
cheer, cheer, cheer 
and no one touching the pissaladière,
my  pissaladière"--
that candy bar fat
lost in my gut
helped
tug me
back