These pieces move through a morning ether of pale string dawn: knight of coffee, bishop of grass, rooks of blonde bones sleeping in the *****-thicket.
My heart eats a shock after knitting careful plans for weeks now. The metro train rattles and shines. The sun hides in castled cloud. Everything feels bigger than it is.
They ask so much from me, I could never give that much. Still, the day is long. The complacent heart will learn and adjust. I still cherish you with all my psychology.