this rotting

When you wake at 3 a.m. and walk outside to the cold wind, unexpectedly rushing the northwest down here against your skin and your hair and breathe in the relative silence of the night, leaves rustling and being pulled down and apart all around you and you walk back in exhilerated yet still almost asleep… Continue reading this rotting


Each day is that day

I saw a shooting star while we were talking tonight. I didn't say anything about it, but I paused my words and it gave me a moment to imagine if things like that mattered, if wishes could be made and, more importantly, made real. If they could come true. I wouldn't wish for a long… Continue reading Each day is that day