And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
a spindly tarantula occupies the cavity in my chest. sometimes i feel him move around. sometimes things surprise him. he is not a permanent resident. i am far too well groomed. especially to walk delicately through the rainforest like a beautiful wise nymph. i am a squirrel scurrying across the road. but most days i am walking through a cosmic soup in no hurry. they are all just places ive been with you. and so what other parts of the world are there? does the air taste the same? what happens when i have nothing left to say about the moon nor its reflection on the water?
