Saturday, February 15, 2014

Inexpliqués

C'est soir, something is astir. I am ready to explore again, explore the pathways of serendipity, chance and sweet vibration. I say this past year has been grounding, wholesome, and no place but this studio apartment could unravel such magnificence.

But a fireplace? 
A basket by the door with collar and leash, wet from melted snow and warm from a panting heart of mine?
It fills pages of the rosy banal: the satisfying tao of a homemaker.
In lieu of flowers, send a garden hose. 

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