Feast

Sensations aren't sins.

The Philosophers (1952) by Dorothea Tanning

This year humbled you and it humbled me. Does that mean we should keep our heads down and crawl from this point forward? Or does each new injury to your body and your mind bring a new chance to feel your real needs, winding their way up toward the sunlight like delicate weeds?

Sit at this table and feel my love …

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