Above the jasmine, apple trees and hazelnuts, the dreaded window. Play, build, jump, hide, throw, do not look up! The widow is all venom, wrinkles and dark lips behind the windowpane that eats light.
I am one of many, embarking on this experiment. The idea is to write a short piece of poetic prose about 365 people I have encountered in my life, one entry per day for a year, using approximately the number of words, matching my age. I've stopped, then resumed, but I am resolved to take this to the finish line.
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