This again. Sitting and thumbing through my workbook and sighing. Shallow breathing and I only look at the pages a second before turning toward the window and noticing the crows and wishing I was a crow and catching myself in the mirror and surpassing and falling short and sipping my coffee and still feeling hung over in the tummy and wondering, why not love?

Today is Monday and my heart is tired. Small. Maybe tomorrow it will feel better.

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