plumlulu

a long, slow liturgy of unlearning the fever and the pride — balance is a quiet mercy and love is the kingdom arriving

the sweetest gift: a vintage 1950s nurse’s dictionary gifted to me with a handwritten poem tucked inside — morten’s original, revised by cunningham.

drank with good friends, realised i love irish pubs, came to terms with who i once was and who i wish to be, forgave my mother and fell deeper in love with an angel. the days mix and blur into a painting of contentment and peace.

happy birthday to the new year!

my boy is sweet and soft and always leaving coins behind–

little wishes of luck, that he loves to make

one wrong word and the sky will split

half-written pages heavy with parallels.

i saw you there. just like you see yourself

this is your worship.

offer your bare skin to the heavens—

this is your sacrifice.

embrace your loved ones and feel the light they carry in their souls—

this is your reward.

bless the void like it’s a god that stayed—

this is your peace.

live and love unashamedly—

this is your virtue.