Love Thyself

I'm drawn to cool and dark spaces. Quiet places. Like now, as I recline in this overstuffed chair in the shadowy, second-floor room at the front of our house. I never turned the lights on after dusk. And it's raining in an introverted kind of way. The air is cool and marked with more than a hint of wet dog. But the beast is wound into a tight ball and snuggled into the diamond shape I've created by frogging my legs; she is mine to forgive. Only the blue-faced glow of a digital alarm clock circa 1985 keeps me alert enough to write. I am smitten.