I am out here studying stones. Trying to learn to be less alive. Using all of my will. To keep very still. Still even on the inside. . I've cut all of the pertinent wires.
Sunday morning. Slow beats seething. Through the screens in. The open windows. Eggs frying. Legs shaking. After we stayed lying. So long in bed. Sunday morning.
You're my seeing eye dog and I am blind. You take me there every time. With that winning combination of loyal and kind. Your eyes like wells to the water of your mind.