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169. ten thoughts about leaving (you have to wait / I’ll be okay)
My Hidden Lives // Prose / The Art Of Leaving

169. ten thoughts about leaving (you have to wait / I’ll be okay)

You are not dead, and you will never be dead. I will sit at my table making pie while following the instructions that you gave me, it will be your pie. And I will think of you there, in your reclining chair, as Grandfather counts the pills you need to take, as you complain about the heat in the room or request more socks. I will have the advantage of not seeing you leave, the bliss of being able to explain away your absence in another way.

I’ll be okay. Continue reading

163. always / never
Poetry

163. always / never

* I didn’t understand it, couldn’t fathom the reckless wastefulness of running in circles to the point of dizziness sheltered in between the glass panels of a revolving door that was our life – always on the run, always bridging the same distance, always going forwards by going backwards, always never standing still. I didn’t … Continue reading