Nightmares.

Too much pain to go back to sleep. I listen for the frogs but hear nothing.

Waiting for the light.

Open to a blank page. Stare at it. Do nothing.

Selenite: crown chakra, ethereal energy.

I bend forward and see an unreasonably long toenail. I should do better.

“I’m just having another existential crisis, or crises,” I say, turning toward him and away from the sun. He proceeds to say that he believes I do know what I want, that I’m just afraid to say it for some reason.

We wipe down the new-to-him furniture with some oil. I remove the splinter. I water the plants. It is quiet. I make a list of the things we need to do.

A little bit of sweat on the hairline. A reminder that summer will return.

I know this feeling.