2011-03-15 - 05:18 a.m.
they are labyrinths and I learned
some mornings, those dreams cling like little grasping tendrils. i wander into another room, stop and blink. how is it that i am here?
out for a run, then shower and coffee in a dressing gown. i was jealous of her beautiful home - not only the effort, but also the ability to make the effort in the first place.
this is what i want to wear. i want all of these clothes.
* * *
reading: irretrievable, by theodor fontane.
listening to: npr.
working on: making granola.
in the garden: there's just one flower on the star magnolia, and it looks like a wadded-up tissue in the branches,