AM
Every morning I sit by the window, cup of coffee and Rilke in hand, and watch the brilliant clockwork sun appear over the rooftops and trees. I had a particularly heart-wrenching nightmare last night: the kind that doesn’t really offer the comfort of “it was just a dream.” Nearby, three little birds sit on a rooftop, watching the sun and pondering their dreams. We all do our best to shake away the cobwebs.
***
PM
Outside rain is pouring, and let it pour! I have an idea. I’m going to try something new—an experiment. Whatever fabrics make up my entirety, I’m dreamer-scientist to the core. And tonight I’m operating on my little Frankenstein heart. To the laboratory.
