two days after I carefully transferred a black widow and its ball of spawn to the darkness of a bush, a young daddy long legs squats on the very same web, busy repairing broken filaments and stitching
spoons large and small classy and plain, mostly scratched and well-worn, one or two shiny and new, probably orphaned at a party, left behind in a dish or alone on the counter years of spoons folks b
recently someone called me that, and it makes sense if you knew my love of plants, fawning and mothering feeding and watering sharing their gifts my love of animals their innocent love simple need
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