is to feel. To feel the wet, the cold, the inviting while roasting a chicken with potatoes & herbs. Remember, both the cold & the hot are both juicy -- in different ways, of course. Just ask, dear Eleanor.
Too much fountain, I thought, as we rested on the grass. Too much respite, accidental fortunes will recur. Lately I've been seeing things too vividly, like airborne people on the backs of dogs, aloft in the most innocent way. My past feels like grains in the trees cut down, adhering and yet disconnected as in the first dreams of the morning, still alive as we awake. When wil the phone ring, the old way.
Too much fountain, I thought, as we rested on the grass. Too much respite, accidental fortunes will recur. Lately I've been seeing things too vividly, like airborne people on the backs of dogs, aloft in the most innocent way. My past feels like grains in the trees cut down, adhering and yet disconnected as in the first dreams of the morning, still alive as we awake. When wil the phone ring, the old way.
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