Monday, March 17, 2025

Monday morning, pouring rain, T is bustling off to work, P is bustling back to NYC, and an hour from now I will have dropped him off at the bus station, I will be stepping back into a quiet house, into my solitary hours, with the rain falling falling, gray daylight unfolding over the streets, my thoughts bumping up against themselves, the unsaid, velvet and thorns.

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