The Dancer

[For Nat, 3 years old] Morning for me is all about weight. I rise and balance myself on the precipitous edge of the bed, teetering there and staring down into the day, feeling the flesh take hold. Gravity sucking on my bones. Bureaucratic little mind voice already listing off the things that I will not get done… Continue reading The Dancer

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Words Between Us

For Nat, turning 2. I. It seems to me that, given the course of things, years will come when words will be no obstacle but catching each others'  meaning more than ever will elude. That's my intuition anyway and I believe it has some claim to a foundation in observation. Look at all these linguistically… Continue reading Words Between Us