sometimes i feel like a crazy person, with all my rising and falling all the time. not the sort of crazy that recognizes its craziness, thereby proving its sanity... but the real crazy. my husband has been writing a poem nominally about bread for the past three years and so it is much on my mind, the rise and the fall and the smells and the yeast and what I make of it, what it makes of me, as we tussle with our independences and our purpose. I am preparing to leave here for a week and while desparate to do this thing, to step away and see my lovelysoul friend pam for the first time in two years, I am currently bereft, in advance, of my two boys. I am overcome with longing for them to snuggle, to smell their boysmellstink all over the house and my world. I am done with multitasking while i ask these things of them and they refuse-sometimes. but i'm lingering at the edges of their foggy bogs and so I catch them unawares, in these moments of rise and fall...
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