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LeftWriteFemme · 12-08-2009, 05:16 AM

December 8

THE WAY I DO IT

Cooking by smell, parking by ear, recovering by touch. The latter has to be done this way; I cannot see into the black-box technology, which keeps me sober. Feel through the resentments, pain, sadness, joy; find myself under a pile of rags with a match in my hand. The many times the steps have saved me from becoming a human torch are balanced by the weight of the rope, woven from these same rags, that together we use to drag one another to safety. The savory scent of a meal, or the glee of front row parking can’t compare with the tender sense of a sober heart.

Write bad advice on tissue and wipe with it.

12-08-2009, 05:16 AM	#11
LeftWriteFemme Practically Lives Here How Do You Identify?: Daddy's good girl Join Date: Nov 2009 Location: Jersey Posts: 16,642 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 2,529 Thanked 12,285 Times in 5,184 Posts Rep Power: 21474868	December 8 THE WAY I DO IT Cooking by smell, parking by ear, recovering by touch. The latter has to be done this way; I cannot see into the black-box technology, which keeps me sober. Feel through the resentments, pain, sadness, joy; find myself under a pile of rags with a match in my hand. The many times the steps have saved me from becoming a human torch are balanced by the weight of the rope, woven from these same rags, that together we use to drag one another to safety. The savory scent of a meal, or the glee of front row parking can’t compare with the tender sense of a sober heart. Write bad advice on tissue and wipe with it.