Aiming for a creative life

I Am Santo

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They’re saying “thank you.” You might not be able to hear them, but their voices are low, some stuck in the swallow of tears, some interrupted by the kindness of laughter you gifted them; maintaining your memory like stained glass in a grand cathedral of their memory. Cherished. Adored. Caught in the sun. Spilling color […]

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Maybe he’s dead. That explains the inaction, the indecision; the inability to agree but instead lay in cold silence and stare long into the dark as tears collect in a pool around his rigor. Beautifully corrupt, like rot creeping into mid-summer blooms, he’s unkind wind promising storms for thirsty hearts and instead bringing razor sands […]

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