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Hardly knew ya!
Make plans, make big plans...
Little ones get away. You can't stuff a plan in your pocket. It has to be bigger than the sky. I tried to reason with the year but the year sent a mammoth beast, bespeckled and antlered roaring into my den. It didn't impale deeply. But instead left a thousand tiny pricks. When I rubbed my body I was a pink blush. It would go on like this for days on end. The hue darkened. I was red as cooked lobster shell when the year was done, done with all of us. I sat shaking in my den, the new year's plans ready to go: an endless quilt stitched with all of the previous plans from all of the previous years. When I pulled on the quilt, something pulled back. 2020 was no different and, actually, exactly the same.


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