I’m filled with light as my thyroid reboots. Spring inside a cyclone of green that reaches into my blood. Clouds roll back hard as constipation and cats are puddles on windowsills. I’m out walking for the first time in months and my skin flexes. The day is like opening something new, the air a taut harmonic combs through reeds cut from porcelain. A heron stretches where the railway crosses the river. Bubbles explode and rooks clatter in the trees. We walk to the bracket fungus that grows in waterfall overspray. Rust leaks from the mountain’s dead mines. We’re rainbows and noise. We’ve walked so far yet I have the strength to get back; thyroxin is my propeller. You are the guide; an explorer with compassion. Soon there will be blossom and the smell of cherries.
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