we were girls together

my word of the day is residual

women don’t want fancy jewelry. they want apple cores housed by hungry worms and reconciliation with their childhood stuffed animals

orange juice with grapes and granola for breakfast, interstitial journaling, the mourning doves continue to land on the fence, my sage still hasn’t sprouted, rewatching serial experiments lain, potato salad for dinner, the barn swallow chicks have finally hatched, the new moon is in leo

cancer new moon, knitting my bones into a spiral, banana and peanut butter smoothie with honey, eight of swords, dirty laundry, lotus pose

hungry enough to eat the gap between the way we used to know each other and the way we know each other now

sitting at the kitchen table while my friends cook us dinner and suddenly i get the profound sensation that the universe wants me to be here for a reason. god wanted me to feel the love that exists in this room tonight

you must never turn down a cup of tea when it is offered to you and you must always follow a cat when it leads you down a narrow street

you will see the most beautiful and intense sunset you have ever seen in your entire life in a random grocery store parking lot. this is simply just how it has always been

luring lustful sailors into the depths of the ocean with my siren wail all summer long

this evening the hummingbirds are chasing each other away from the feeders like children fighting over the best swing on the playground. the robins are arguing over which corner of the cornfield rightfully belongs to them. the goldfinches are impersonating large yellow butterflies and the ladybugs are having dinner together on a spacious leaf. witnessing life unfold before my own eyes has become the most useful form of meditation

lately i’ve been getting all of my information from the barn owls that gossip with each other in the silo across the street