It Is Happening Again (Thank You, Council Of Saturn!)

“Angel, it’s not happening again.” Float down your cove with ease. If you feel your hand lifting, paddle gently, effortlessly. “I wanna be a cloud.” Into the cloud you are. This prickly grief teaches me. I knew the end had come when you charmed our necks with celeste. I sunk in the halves. The fastening stung. I could spit on your couch from here. We’ve lost nothing at all. We’ve lost nothing. Listen to your voice. Drown me out sometimes. Pummeling ideas at you like you’re in a batting cage. All around everything is dying. “Attention is the rarest & purest form of generosity.”