The Day, Yielding

Thursday, January 21, 2010

It doesn't matter how tired you are. An alive sky is a whole soul; it filters through you.

You look down, you think, I can't.

You look up, you say, I will.

Every day, no matter how jam-packed, no matter how disappointing, is a privilege.

Watermelon. Lilac. Gunmetal. Blue.

The crease of white.

1 comments:

lib said...

Thank you dear cousin.
Words...read.
Words...needed.
Words...your words shared.

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