• Reading My Catastrophe

    5 monthes ago - By Open Space

    Megan and Angie.
    The mind ends in a sort of swamp. We are swamp creatures, paddling around in the mud and mangroves of our neural landscape. I also imagine there is a horizon with a fringe of reeds and little lights, maybe fireflies. That is the boundary, where mind turns into nature. You can wait there for a gust of spirit. That is where I dream, the cat curled next to me, the one who used to curl next to you.
    I knew you would come with a word for me. A tender flutter, a wing, syllables. The medium opened her palm and there I saw it.
    “When things feel unbearable...”
    That's not it exactly...
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