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Few days I go back, deep into the abyss where those days hold the stillness of a mausoleum, memories cataloged beauty and yesterday. When I do revisit those days, I find the most perplexing piece of my life lived. Like … Continue reading
If memory serves me well, we were all just floating; hollowed hearts recoiled by death’s touch. You don’t just get over such things. Year’s from the touch, our hearts still feel tender in moments of our memory’s choosing. It’s easy … Continue reading
It’s in the remembering that we live braver, hungrier and more convinced of hope and grace and beauty swallowing. I have noticed small bright pink post it notes lying around in the same spot. At first glance, I paid … Continue reading