day 159

still, the rain persists, day after day, i fill up with the loneliness of others, their incompleteness threatens to overflow. i carry in the mud of indecision on the soles of my shoes, while the wind moans of their anguish which i’m unable to heal. 6.8.17

day 158

true to its blade the knife must know when to stab deep or just slice slow 6.7.17

day 157

a top that spun does not rest until its spin is all turned out, and in its pause, it tips aside, waiting to be spun again. 6.6.17 [Image Source]

day 156

retreat into your catacombs i await your emergence pacing to the beat of my inner drum, driven by all i have found, more that was lost; i test the terms of my patience and try to rest 6.5.17

day 155

the rendezvous approaches when we walk the tightrope between our hearts and our minds, desire and trepidation, with questions and longing until we let it all go and plunge in. 6.4.17