Sunday June 7, 2020
I wonder what forces are at work when the misunderstandings begin firing, pinging across the kitchen and the newly washed tile.
Does someone look down and notice that we have had too many instances of ease today, that a maturity fills out our shoes, that we want to get along?
It can shape shift so quickly and all of the subconcious resentments make their voices heard in small gestures, big reactions, and words we wished we didn’t utter so losely.
All above us in the space just over our heads is the glittering possibility and we squander every particle.