Dear Wigleaf,

Even though it's been one of those weeks, I mean months, or maybe it's just been a few songs on my playlist since we last y'know—, and then someone planted three words on my window, exposing us to the morning light, which was more gray-blue than listening to Andra Day singing while I showered. It's so trying how a good shower requires much tampering, turning up the hot water, countering with forgiveness. I hate having to stand totally naked waiting for something real to hit me, like my relationship with words. Three of them, sitting next to my red Angry Birds coffee cup with its white chip on its rim. Is it awful to keep something around if it's a little broken?

I'm making another pot of coffee.
Tell me what you think,
shareen