Yin and yang
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The Quiet And Still of It All
He’s so present with his feathers. Sweet little bird. Sitting on a thin branch that reaches for the sky, not too far from the window, he preens as I sit here with a pillow on my lap, and my mac… Continue reading
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Heart Broken
My skin is peeled, once more, and I am flesh on open bone. Why is it that darkness must be, in order for light to be known? Why is loss needed to highlight the beauty of having had? Why is… Continue reading