She called the sunset honey-gold. I felt myself melting into it. I felt all those things I thought I couldn’t feel anymore. I’ve still got it. Magic dripping out my fingers. But the world hunkers in on me and the suburbs drill my senses to greys and all the slimy patterns of the world ring songless. But if I lean into the light, if I perch myself just right on the lap of the world, the world sings back. The world leads me to that place of light and listening, and the world is glad I’ve come. The world is always glad we’ve come.

I don’t know what I believe anymore.

I’m almost there.

Love is the only home I know.

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