My bedroom breathes long, sighing exhales of me. Few other spaces are as sacred and intimate as a bedroom, mine: a perfect recluse for an over-extended cancerian. I am grateful for the weekend's song, calling me into this space, to stay put, to listen. A pastel bazaar, warmly lit and blanket clad for a restless, dreaming crab.
In the mood to watch this and drink this . Rain on, Friday.
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