dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Wednesday, May 24, 2006


Kitty woke us up at 6:30 and wanted to be petted so bad that he was rubbing his ears on my sleepy hand, so I forgave him. We all need love--can you really blame him?

It's warm and quiet here. Sad and subsisting. Wrote a letter to P. A bird flew, and then another bird flew that looked like its shadow. That will be all.


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