My pace is the tempo of a church camp tune. I’m okay with being overheard. From the other side of the street, a young woman is singing fiercely. She isconscious that she is flagrant. They won’t break hersoul. My tune is dusty rose. Hers is electric blue. My sound is butter cream. Hers is salsa verde. Soothing to exciting, the morning accepts the whole
Published on June 10, 2023 18:14