Sunday, 10 August 2014

Day Two

I baptise you my writing frock.  You of  green, garter yellow and gaudy provenance, may your tattered years be oh so helpful in my quest for clarity.  May you comfort me as I stare and stare, grasping for things that are over my head --- letters, then words, and if we´re lucky a complete thought.

I will soil you, dirty you, and perhaps do the unforgivable, but keep me please, my writing frock, keep me company for now.

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