Sunday

I'm not sure where I went wrong. We'd lost our rhythm and I say too much. Maybe too many other things go unsaid while my foot takes up residence in my mouth. It's a clumsy dance I can't seem to break away from lately. Some days I feel like I'm living off frustration and it's a taste I can't rinse clean.


But a long quiet car ride makes everything clearer, everything easier and everything fall into place. And I remember it will get better. Of everything, that's what I'm most sure of.