Haze is a sheltering cloak. The mist and the rain envelop me, muffle my senses, make me feel safe. I linger, sultry in the shadows and droplets that hang from air itself, but protected.

I do not want to be safe.

I want the shining starkness of this new day, sun day, clouds hanging low ripe for the plucking day: the distinct variations in the greens, my chaos exposed and ordered by the breeze, just this, just this day. I want to see it, say it, sally forth, lie down, count my blessings.

2 thoughts on “clarity

  1. max says:

    who need safe? not me.

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