a small essay about my friend, the morning

i’ve watched the sky change from royal blue with billowing clouds to the now barely-colored pastels with pink whisps, the flaunting peacock tree branch waving its feathers all the while. it’s like it was in the air. at some point i removed my tiny wrist computer: a small rebellion for disconnection. i chose a stemmed glass tonight. i’ve sat here in this evening for hours, relishing its presence that will never again be replicated. i am getting eaten alive. the candles are not working but they are lovely in this dusk. creeping jenny neighbors my right, monastrell my left. a huge bowl of blistered shishitos for dinner.

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