Balsamic dressing on the thigh of my gray sweatpants
Cooking and ceremony
This has been the year of transformation, but not in the ways I'd expected
A lot has come to light
Things are not as I thought they were or would be
What I do with that information is up to me
It begins with being honest
What tins are in here?
Are you thinking of me?
Our friends are growing up
They have allowed each other to evolve and I should, maybe, do the same
I should stop doubting that my feelings have a reason for existing
Am I the only one who remembers what we used to be like? Do I assign too much weight to it?
Not gospel, but data
Eating a banana on new year's eve
New year's day hike, then bonfire
Soon enough I will no longer be biologically capable of having children
It's time for a reckoning
Across the gulfs of grief
What do you need to burn?
It's time to make biscuits
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