A blog exploring connections between things around me.
Would a content selfsuccumb to the urgeof reaching for the screenover and overagain?
The universenever soughtthe meaning ofmy breaths.The desirewas an inventionentirely my own.
Every morningglass windows weep—rivulets running downin intricate patterns.Every morningI hope yesterday markedthe end of their sorrow.It has been a longLow Country summer.