Small mercies

Small mercies are easy to pray for, can be muttered under ones breath. Redemption is complex, requires coupons and paper work and waiting for things to return.

I practice stillness but still have not mastered it. Feign it best when I am fatigued. The year is eliptical, drawing into long hot days. This last month, so slow and so full.

My plans are chalked. Wash away under water. I am acheing to soak myself in salt and moistened air. To escape these small heartaches that tingle in my soul, like pins and needles across my chest.

I reached out but you did not see my fingers, straining.
I will never speak to you of these things.