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meandering
slurping chai from a saucer like a kitten (and the blushing) falling in to your gravity meandering through the conversation the day your journal (this still leaves me smiling) me, drawn to the texture of your opinions and passions (and then the kissing)
New Directions
Outside there is a thin wind flirting with the trees it has teased the curtains into dancing; I keep time in my head. Memorizing the seasons, I touch things as if my fingers will learn them again; weary of explanations, at mid-life I am more comfortable with the truth. Outside, the mountain ash hangs heavy…
i will wear gloves
the moon is full once again painting her beauty on the lawn the honeysuckle has come back in full force her skirts kissed by hummingbirds each morning the stairs still creak with busy feet up and down so many times every day it’s warmer now but the light is fading soon, my hands will be…
the (un)measured life
Let my life not be measured by gold or productivity or towers built for someone to later knock down Instead, let it be measured by the number of kisses on my neck, my forehead, my lips (and elsewhere). Let my life be measured by the number of times I have heard or spoken the words…
need
I haven’t been this sick or this exhausted in a long time. A week ago today, I was caring for my sick daughter and here I am, laying here quietly, letting my daughter be cared for by another and surrendering to this virus that seems to have knocked me down and will let me back…