Day 240. Talk to me from a straight line.

Day 237. a back arched like the shell you held up to your ear.

Dau 239. I don’t know who I’m courting.

Day 238. Pack light and you will always be able to recollect what was taken.

Day 236. When it rained, the girl felt part of something and took it as a sign that it was time to wash herself off and start over.

Day 234. It is a relief to know the return is always willing and waiting.

Day 233. I heard the rain and the patter-patter-patter of little wings lifting off everywhere all at once.

Day 232. I chose to leave and walked home without realizing I was still holding the crystal glass of warm wine.

Day 231. Sheba spoke to me as I danced blue and silver; I hear her laugh from the dark.

Day 230. That yellow-breasted bird has swallowed its tail and sings me the stories of dawn and dusk.

Day 229. Until then, it’s just the sound of feathers.

Day 228. You cannot show people the way; they must find their own path.

Day 227. Will you do the same for me when I call with salt in my mouth?

Day 226. It is bitter to be loved and also the sweetest offering one can give.

Day 225. An odd dinner party, a swan, and three guests.

Day 224. I lift my skirts to bare it all and it has to be for me before it is for you; agony is a result of the ego.

Day 223. the ringing of a bell—I will arrive later.

Day 222. The girl nodded. She knew exactly how it felt to be stuck like the sea.

Day 221. I entered this gateway from the cosmos of crackling stars that flash like the lights of the favelas.

Day 220. Surrender to the suffering and you will escape the nightmare of knowing your limitations.