press me flowerlike into a book

For a month and two days, my finger-tongues have been latent. I tied my blog-mouth shut, and oh, I could tell you why (I could tell you about the book I’m writing, the album I’m finishing, the interview I’m giving, the daily slog that gives me a placebic nausea each morning), but instead, I’ll speak to you of storms.

A beautiful, giant of a storm wreaked its way through Missoula today. Clouds with bellies full of half-digested sunset leaking through seam-split stomachs. Clouds gorged on sun and impending nightfall, both.

And then the wind. A visible wind, and not just because of the rain and stolen petals that rode it.

I stepped out, abandoning my 72k word story that needs to be finished by the 23rd, and stood in this storm because vulnerability is love. Exposure is commitment.

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