I
wept over something. A weather cell of emotion just
passes over me, through me. My hardwire has these soft spots. Invitations have
this liquid logic that defies stance and presumption. My mind-stride and
feeling-stance become a simple stream petted by breeze with flexible limbs
brushed by whim. Thus tears, as outcome express. I weep over some simple things
that touch me
in this way . . .
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