Disclosures. Once again the yellow school bus rolls down Main Street a little after seven a.m., life briefly assuming Beverly Cleary levels of normalcy. What I am interested in now is not the story you tell but the sense of coherence it makes for you. Digging up daffodils at my mother's house, later eating hamburgers, cole slaw and ice cream. Sexual energies we can't avoid, just do the best we can, like growing up with an unwanted inheritance. How does it feel after giving away what you can't ungive? I whisper her name in the darkness, it has at least two kisses in it. Bee balm wavers under the old apple tree and one reconsiders their relationship to prayer. Lately it's as if the cosmos wants me back in a relationship with crows. You don't just forget about cause-and-effect! It's like chess - you think the board and the pieces are what matter but they're easily modified, switched out, re-scaled, et cetera, so no, what matters is the sequence of moves, the game itself, but no, what really really matters are the rules which define the allowable set of moves and make it fun. Swing by, let's talk. But I like holding hands walking! Copping a quick feel in the hay loft, a hot kiss even now. Crucifixion is a horror show, sister, that cross will suck you in to interior deserts and battles you never want to see, spit you out in worlds where the living don't bury the dead.
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