06 January 2006

Clean, Facing the Sun

I sometimes feel like I am on the edge of return -- like I'm coming back to life. I feel the soft air at night, the sweetness of my feet curled into my white parquet bath rug as I step out of my steaming shower in the morning -- clean, facing the sun, noting the red leaves and white sky of the day outside my blue bathroom's window.

I turned off the TV. I'm listening to music.

Life seems possible again, like I'm on the end of a limb ready to fall with stinging joy back to the earth, ready to run far from the dangers trodding steady like a black dog at my feet.

P.S. I miss my trelly-trelle (here pictured.)

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Dear Republican Party

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