Icicles

Thoughts provoked (inspired?) by icicles outside of our window after an unusual week of snow.

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Resolve

One day I lost, for the last time, writing that I could not recall or recreate, and from that moment on I wore pen and notebook as garments, though they were much more vital to me than clothes. More than instruments, pen and paper were extensions — appendages even. Ink was blood, and writing, the contract it signed.