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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,


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