Orion in a sky of dialogue

by evergreenovella

You walked with me and we spoke of constellations and baptismal fire. The cold cut, but I didn’t care. There’s time for solitude and warmth punctuated by crisp connections on sidewalks.

Library chairs grow harder as I sit, position unchanged, attempting to assemble arguments and prove points. Mumbled prayers for clarity leave cracked lips, wishing I wasn’t so lazy and that these things came easier than they already do. But I suppose that defeats the purpose of our task here. We work, wait, and wonder towards the final bloom of seeds planted in new earth.

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