A MAGIC SPELL

The sky is as black as the coffee I have in my Elvis mug.

I read the poems of Jim Carroll before I fell asleep and dreamed of my outrageous good fortune at being alive and kicking. How easily one can depart this plane… the absurd way I have treated my body with poison. Enough to end the life of Rasputin himself!

Soon the sun will rise and the exchanges of pleasantries and challenges will commence. I’m ready, willing and somewhat stable!

Much love to the conflicted souls that arise anxious and unprepared.. it’s going to be alright, I promise. Let faith and a smile weave it’s magic spell.

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