TonightTonight I did not finish my paper.Tonight
I didn’t write anything new, or even edit anything old. I didn’t write responses to letters, and I didn’t write responses to life.
I did not read what I was supposed to read, and I did not do anything I was supposed to do.
Instead, I wrapped myself in the comfort of old inspirations, and was surprised to find something new in the age-ringed pattern I could have sworn I’d memorized.
I played my favorite music, and lit my favorite incense,
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