Eight point three pounds. Gallons upon gallons. Displace me now.
Warmer is the dawn. Still low and south though you are. Sullen chaste for now.
In the last few weeks, every conversation started with the wind and cold, moved to the President’s tweets, before returning to the cold and the wind.
But there is hope.
Last summer, a friend on my dock renamed their boat. We needed a ceremony that properly deflected the bad juju that often comes with a casual re-christening. What we also needed was as many unpronounceable deities as possible. This is not original. I stole liberally from several online examples. Wikipedia also helped with the names…
Molten on water. Crystals arranged on a breath. A threat for later.