On second thought, let's not go to Camelot. It is a silly place.
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Sunday, December 11, 2011
accents
This morning I am my own earthquake. I wake up before the light and tremble. A small dance that grows in vibration but not in warmth. I step over the puddles of sleeves and hoods. Keep moving.
Dodge that thunder and make your own, girlfriend! (That was Oprah-esque.)
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