Cassandra’s Tears

Tears of joy, tears of pain, we are reflected in the salt-water pools we create. So let us build a fleet of paper boats and sail them on our ocean of indecision, laughing at the wind-whipped white-crested waves that would wash over us, drowning us in our own despair, yet somehow never vanquishing us in the end.

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Location: Lennoxville, Quebec, Canada

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

Cactus Flower

It blooms in the dark, releasing into the air its subtle scent, enticing nectar seekers who are unwitting players in the courting dance of pistils and stamens. For one brief night the cactus flower plays out its lust, and then it is gone, hiding its shame with the morning light, soon to wither and be replaced by the pregnant globe of its indiscretion.


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