that was not my ego talking, but rather the pondering of disguised emotions that
dampened both my cheeks. It hardly qualified as a blessing, for uncertainty is just a belief that deliberately chooses to crease, as the memory apologetically folds away. I stored what I could and allowed the others to disappear beyond the horizon, their heads refused to turn, they were not angry, they were only moving on. In the softness of the moment, I pinned my shoulders back and perched above the sighs. Serenity was overstated, there was little difference between a bright blue sky and a pile
of broken sticks . As I removed the film from my gaze, the rest of me listened
and wondered how everything could be so beautiful, yet the first touches were now remembered as colorless and cold. Maybe that is why I was suddenly talking to blue jays and missing the smell of morning. I saw an angry fox playing a banjo under a tree. He could not get the chords right no matter how many times he chose to start again. But he was determined and I understood. Perseverance without a plan does little but drive one mad. Now there was increased stuttering, still the words that fell in line, did so as part of a divine parade. To this day, I am not sure if anyone noticed the hand of God. But it was there and I felt rather brave. Unmasked, I was thankful it was you and your love that made me weep.
Heads were turning in the distance, crying no longer made me sad.