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  • Outside the Open Eye Cafe in 65 degree weather. The stars shine through the Carrboro North Carolina street lamps and send us flashes of worlds we will never touch. There are some that are missing from my line of sight and the lights seem dim mourning their loss. There's a rumble of cars rustling to and fro pumping forward through the night and they displace the dust and sand slightly into the crisp April air. I sip my decaf coffee that was roasted ten miles down the street and organically and ethically harvested in Costa Rica. There are two men at the next table having a laugh at their relationship problems. I have my pants rolled up to the knee and I'm wearing a reverse tie-dye t-shirt that my friend Lisa Bruckner helped me create. My back tingles against a cool metal garden chair and my computer sits open with an application that waits to be seen.

    I look and listen to this moment for a few seconds and come to remember words that special people have said to me once along the whir and stir about beauty. Every time these people gave me these moments, the person in question and I were walking. They went something like this. One stated that it's in the observations of the ordinary that you find beauty. Another one of these people showed me the mosaic of a broken woman and said to me quietly that all beauty was imperfect, and in the imperfection it is beautiful. A final person mentioned beauty as the ultimate hoax where we decide what constitutes 'beautiful' yet still desire to put that beauty into anything that we will so that cars and parents and other things can caress and resound to us as beautiful and wild and comfortable and livid as... as home.



    I came here on my bicycle today but I think that I will walk with the three home for they are the reason my hands are writing and my eyes are opened wide to the beauty in this wink of life and it will be only fitting that they be the ones to help me kiss the sunlights of the night

    whilst we walk like we did in those days before
    on roads--

    those familiar, broken, and clumsy roads

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