And they come blinking…. Out into the light. Skin pale, and so white. Nails torn apart,

I will help you to die and gather the ashes of your many selves,

Across the green pastures feel the long grass brush against your knees, Through flowing streams and sense cold water at your feet,

March brings chill and cheer..

we are gathered in truce to discuss our differences, my therapist seated between us. my roadrunner legs point past the door in case. we are