somehow things make sence
Amor Fati
it would be vein to call it a stumble upon
this was never our doing
we will continue
to check the watches on our wrist and pray
that this day is a good day
the moon does not miss sun
that life can live when time has stopped
“and to this day the sun has never said to the Earth;
you owe me.”

your tuning fork landmark roadway has called
i’ve met you before
among the lay-away incarnations.
your a company confidant crocheting wool across my gentle.
Curtain hair, red fired dancing through your bellows
my elbows are touching your perhaps
and we’re making connections
allowing the doe to swim through the insides
and moving forward.
we’re songbird, we’re kindred, we’re general marked down page swimmers.
a confirmation that Fortuna does not abandon
her stories
we – the cantadoras of her cuenta cuentos
“I live in my dreams — that’s what you sense. Other people live in dreams, but not in their own. That’s the difference.” here’s where we tie the knots in our do’s.


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