Semi-Daily Scribbles

You have stared into The Deep Dark for ten hard months. That tower of yours can't come crumbling down fast enough. You need to be knee-deep in debris right now. Think of the dust as humus for a healthy heart (yours, by the way, is a most striking shade of ebony.) Every tree you pass beneath knows your name. Every drop of rain contains your DNA. You love here, there, and everywhere. You live in a house that Thoughts built. You are a first edition locked away in my ivory library.

Soul formation begins with the weathering of desire.