DAY 125

After Fall Part Three. Awaking momentarily. I carefully pluck each bead as it drips off the tip your nose. Delicately piercing each with a strand of my hair. Watching it gracefully bounce along until it cozies up to the previous. Fluidly gurgling. Rising with each inhale. Falling with each exhale. I wind it around my shoulders as I go. Keeping it from touching the ground. Acres of sacred sweat. This will be the bindery that we ruminate on for awhile. I laugh at your frustration. Secretly thrilled and admiring all the while. You reach over and push the hair off my face. This is our work. At dawn I set our moment’s accomplishment upon the mantel. Watching over us as we slip back again.