MS3, Day 205—Dark

Sink toward the door day-weary and full of the eyes and pains of 15-minute acquaintances whose real questions I couldn’t answer. Shoes off Phone down Backpack off (not for long) Sink toward the piano weak against the gravity of the familiar, safe black Black wood Black keys Black space—with stars Familiar, predictable, wild beauty from …

Pruning Season

She gardened bald, trimming the dying lavender to grow back for the living. Planning beauty for the future that wasn’t hers and she knew it.