at the end of the middle of the week

wednesday night
slow smoulder after an all day burn
i started with a sermon
its never too late

but i still dont understand mountains
struggling against gravity to
the call of plummeting heights

for lunch an apple a sandwich
& crazy poured into both my ears
for two hours followed by eight

minutes of quiet communion
in a cell with my book
savoring midday light

and then the work,
the work i know best
crafting setups to catch
the perfect callback
whipping up
sawdust pies from scratch
to throw at wealthy dowagers
& finding the perfect punchline
for the climactic fight

then the sacred work
of snacks and bath
& stories and night night

came home to an intriguing tease
in my privatest inbox
& could only give as good i got
but i wanted to write

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