Clever little creatures, they show up unexpectedly and unapologetically. They lack ambition and are satiated by their own passivity. I admire their repose; no need for posturing or hope to be mythologized. They often settle into creases, folds and other nondescript and tepid spaces. Their lack of flair is precisely what calls my attention; what thrills me, moves me, captivates me. I shall one day build an obtuse castle of nuances. I will dance between their walls of quiet moments, and on floors tenderly stitched together with pregnant glances. And when that castle dissolves, I shall walk slowly on the gray ashes underneath my bare feet.
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