stars spark in the blackened deep: fingertips of the gods (carefully holding in bright hands a ravaged planet, burnt flowers drifting down from each. point. of. contact.
I have finally instituted a writing day for myself. Non-interpretive, uninterrupted. Awesome. There is a rose on my desk from Valentine's Day, I've eaten a delicious maple & pecan pastry, I've replaced the ink in my printer, and I'm armed with a belly-mug of tea. First, a meditation. My favourite thing this week is a…Read more Memo # 12