Dangerous Compassions


I woke up at 2am from a bad dream, txted till 3 with A who stays up half the night, wrote a poem.  The poem Ming says is hard to understand.  I wrote in on my phone.  Ming doesn’t like the abbreviations.

Today is a Creech vigil.  We might go to the farmer’s market in Henderson.  At night is political prisoner letter writing.

Tomorrow Ming has a tracking class.

Sunday we go on retreat.  I will sing.

The radio in the van doesn’t work and we’re trying to think of a workaround.  Maybe we’ll bring the boombox.

“Ming’s not excited about going to the Creech vigil today.  I don’t think anybody is,” Ming says.

“Projection?” I ask.

Did I already tell you I’m ready for a new sign?  I think THE ONLY SOLUTION IS LOVE is too hard to read, and I’m ready for a new message.  Was thinking LOVE YOUR ENEMIES which I think Jesus said.  My implication being that killing someone isn’t loving.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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