Seventy-four:

74

Many things have been said and done in the 

name of relationship. Good, bad, tired rehashings 

and penitent blendings of thought and speech. 

Air, from another time and place, is just the 

absence of reliable memory taking upon itself 

the head and body of desire. Shame, passed 

along from mother to daughter, father to son, 

somehow always finds its way into the old barn 

of unforgivness and jumps hopefully from the loft, 

landing instead with a thump in a haycock of pain. 

A conical heap of generational ghosted hurt 

with a life of it’s own. An old sayings says: 

...our failures provide the greatest opportunities

to grow towards the unconditional...    Bullshit.

16April2021

Markle~