To learn, we must first, unlearn.
Belle comes home soon.
The tension knots my heart into tight little bows. They start and smile, every so often, these bows, just to remind me they are there.
To welcome her back, I will bake brownies, with multicoloured sparkles.
Reading gathers your mind, much like Yahn with his fingertips of sky gathers hair of silk, gently, into soft clouds.
The wind comes then, and pushes the clouds out to sea.
There you hover, for a while, uncertain, until you place a delicate foot down into the water.
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