Jesus, this was only Spring. New Age was all right, she said, but any seance would have to be held in the kitchen not the parlor. Newtons mood swings came and went. Like time does in the middle of a laugh. What is sickness if the wellness tastes so clean.
Pain is but remembered vapidness when crick is gone.
I wished I could have been of comfort in that owl-trying time, as I wish I could have been of better use to friends now gone. I remember love. It used to taste like deference. It was what difference is. Way back when I had smiles good enough to change a life I must have wasted them on life itself.