Day 341. Stirring rose petals. 

Day 340. And it looks like this.

Day 338. Not every gate is worth passing through.

Day 337. I want to kneel beside him and comb his hair with cold hands.

Day 336. My boots tap lightly against the horse's flanks.

Day 335. Cecile Cafe with pastel chairs like Easter eggs.

Day 334. April is Clara offering me chocolates on the video call; do you want the dark mint, or can I keep it?

Day 328. You're hurt. Amanda had said. I'm not. I'd said.

Day 327. Love and loathing are siblings.

Day 326. My life is a run-on sentence and I like it this way.

Day

Day 325. They prefer the thing twitching to the carcass with no life left.

Day 324. I want a love that wipes out the future and cancels the question of what is next.

Day 324.