A lot of days are empty. But some are full. Way too full. And my thoughts are too scattered, and they leak to my tongue. But my tongue doesn't want to let them go to the air, so they glide further down, to my fingertips. And they pour onto the keyboard and etch out what I am feeling. And then I don't feel so full anymore.
21. Upstate, NY. Baking and Bitching Since '93.