Slow how you go now, I am a kitten most easily frightened and disarmingly curious. Chaos will kiss you often enough, so I love you much most beautiful silent solitude. Full health returns to my sharpened cheeks and determined legs (my temples sweat nostalgically).
My feet have hardened. During the day, I speak in baby-talk and give away copious amounts of stickers to beautiful children and refuse to feel sad for their sake. In the afternoons, I drink cold white wine and read, ceasing only to write and speak in love-talk. My weekends are for friends and lovers and generally others.
(mine is a good life I like it very much thank you for coming)
At moonlit midnight I rock slowly in my hammock, feeling small beneath the star-speckled sky, singing softly. Redemptively.
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