Monday 27 October 2008

The week's edge

The sky is a uniform soft blue, like brushed denim. My breath, harshly visible before me when I left the house an hour ago, is barely there now, a vague, suggestive trickle of me into the out-there.

All weekend, I hid, curled up, chewing my fingers. Go away. Go away. That frightening, fragile edge. This tender, mysterious edge.


Dale said...

This is so beautiful Jean. Photo and words both.

I'm sorry it's so hard. Lots & lots of love.

green ink said...

Somehow you make pain beautiful Jean - and I mean that as a compliment :) I know what it's like to want to hide away. Keep being brave. xx

Zhoen said...

I will put my arm
Around your shoulders all tense.
And we will chuckle.