I find myself, yet again, in yet another person's home living out of suitcases 1600 miles away from familiarity. The in between, this liminal space is both beguiling and terrifying with its ephemeral flirtation. So, I fall back on old strategies and patterns...sequestered wine time and comfort sounds. The staid reminders of stability and home. How prosaic.
This is a reposted song. The original is here.
This is a reposted song. The original is here.
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