Dangerous Compassions

let the cow live

Ming’s making spaghetti for breakfast.  I’m listening to holy music.  Last night we went to Indian food then to A’s place where he read to me a lot.

“Everyone’s been so damaged,” I told A about a character in our book.  “Sometimes it’s easier to see than others.”  She had been badly burned.

Also, something about a cow who doesn’t give milk.  Krishna was saying to spurn the cow. 

“What if she gave you milk for years and years?  You’re just supposed to let her die?” I asked.

“Maybe she never gave milk,” A said.  “It’s a metaphor.”  You know me.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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