Pen and Ink i’m blessed to live near a rooster who has a problem with his circadian rhythm. Or, maybe it is more accurate to say he is blessed to live near me because anyone else would have strangled him by now. He crows when it feels “morning-ish”: 1 am, 3 am, or continuously between 4 and 5:30 for good measure. Today he overslept–what, were you tired?–and decided to wake the world at …
I woke from a dream that we befriended people we admire they lived next door to us in a new house we moved into. They liked us, and the liklihood of us ever having that kind of proximity to them is next to zero. Still, it was a good dream so I’ll take it. It reminds me of waking out of a peaceful place and finding myself in a hospital …
Dear Ink, It is sad that I’m writing imperfectly, namely because I’m a perfectionist. Nevertheless, I’m a perfectionist who loves you more than to leave another night of inward prose unwritten. I have squandered 22 years of would-be writings because i lacked the time to write eloquently, so tonight, I will at the same time honor you and dishonor you with less than you deserve: imperfect writing. – Pen
Beauty hidden, Beauty escaped, Beauty unreachable, hidden away from prying hands, Beauty alone, Beauty guarded, Beauty bending down to meet you,, Beauty withdrawn…