Monday, March 7, 2016



Solace of the warm arm above the pillow. Solace of a creamy coffee anticipated. Visit from an elusive muse leaving behind near-undeciphirable pencil scribbles on the tiny notebooks. Solace of that dreamy, rumpled smile followed by a clumsy kiss. Solace of the tenderness behind it. Solace of this small, undramatic, unconditional, unhurried, undemanding happiness.The rustle of pre-dawn shadows from which all pain has departed, only the solace of sleep remains.


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