I claim my space in the kitchen. A meditation begun in YEAST, sung in cinnamon, and spread with the MINCE across pies, breads, cakes, and rolls. A space WHERE, despite the assumptions of others, I have nothing to PROVE. Where I can, paradoxically, in solitude or in community, PROBE the depths of love and give expressions to my own honest joy and creativity.

Georg’ann

I’m READY for the SHORE,
ready to go for BROKE
PROBE no further
Truth revealed where land and sea converge

Heather