if the fan were to stop we would all be still

that achy breath is hard to ignore. the calf suckles and thinks of a song that reminded her of winter.
it was sweet, and heavy, a distinct smokey sunrise to it. in the meadow she stretches her spindle legs, the arch of her back is hollow. she is weak from dead grass in her mothers breast. if the naked sun would touch upon those beady eyes, maybe she would see something grander. this is just a speculation, and in fact the only reason this tender heifer is still alive is her rabid sense of duty to the land. she touches her tongue to the leftover dung and tastes something that reminded her of winter.

c'mon

I am reminded that we are all mortal, and i, most of all am not god. well, you could have fooled me, because all of these years I have been running around with a chip on my shoulder like it actually mattered. and now, now the earth smells like it did when i was five and in a green velvet dress. thats a good thing, great even. for the first time in years (in year?) i am touching like a new born.

i spent two hours yesterday testing myself. i met someone. someone who i can't place. someone familiar to something lost. but someone so different and frightening. he watched me as i sat on the grass, and i let him see me. see, this is where the testing comes in. i let him see what was there, and he didn't leave. he stayed, and he smiled and made eye contact and even touched my arm like a lover would. perhaps this is when i realize that the gate that i have kept so locked, so well guarded has been breached. but more than that, i have let the doors swing open, and i have ushered in a flock of new ideas, new hope. im not ashamed to say that i know him better than i know that one year and change.