Starfox

I could hear them fucking, like I did most mornings. We should all start the day with some affirmations of life, like they do. If not with action, at least with the sounds. At that point probably five or six days had passed. The Moon was nearly full, but not quite. These days were felt in the hours instead of just as days while Time slowed down and down. It would continue on this trend until the passing of Time went out all together. The Sun would come around, then I would bow, then him, and come back tomorrow. Thin yellow fabric filtered its light from where I slept. That color is generous at this time of day.

Lately, I’ve been praying the fragments of St. Francis’ that I still carry — some other bits in between. Prayer is personal, after all. While using my fingers as a comb, “thank you for making me a conduit for good deeds…” That phrase came to me a while back and has since stuck. “thank you for making me an instrument of peace…” Morning routines are fairly abridged these days. I’m not using any mirrors, I brush my teeth and spit more loudly than usual, pat some red jelly blush at the centers of my cheeks. Simple. From my bedside I picked up a small bottle with a red label and a tiny outline of a bumblebee at its center, “thank you for making me sweet like honey…”, then a mouthful. I could go into detail. I did that thing I like where I tease the roof of my mouth with the tip of my tongue and it makes me shiver. I love this ritual.

To be continued...

ⓔ 2026