I prayed silently at an alter scattered with clamshell and slate. I shelved long owned books I finally read by candlelight. A damaged weather vane outside spun in cautious cycles. My porcelain doll slept under my embrace while the Lost Boys played on repeat. A week of ease and nondescription as a backdrop for detour epiphanies. Thinking apes and infrared valves cleared my open eyes. I studied my own ways with renewed fervor under the tutelage of newly salvaged recordings.
3:09 p.m. - 2017-08-14
Recent entries:
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