14 Sept 2022

Three months ago I was melting, waning, withering, wishing for the season to wax. Now the cycle is up, overturned, the heavens checking their watches, waiting to reset. I am peering into a deep pool deeply. I am counting the laps. I am starting; I am waxing.

A blue-green painted brick exterior of a garden-level apartment, with gates and vines surrounding it, pictured from above.

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