Russian Baths

Spooky moments.  I thought of him and he appeared.  

We talked of Turkish/Swedish/Russian Baths and subsequent cannibalistic terrors.  An absolute Dearest and one who despite distance and time understands the Crushing Depression and a shared love of ridiculous Asshole remarks.  I love him so, my darling Alien and we inevitably synchronistically see each other at transitional liminal interludes in our lives.  In those too brief moments I am home.

Thank you Universe.  Thank you for reminding me that relinquishing the square peg round hole dilemma was the right choice.

Desert Sessions - Crawl Home

  

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