my ears don’t hear the differences within the words i heard even after repeating and repeating my heart still isn’t beating in the ways i am needing i can listen but no intuition i just stress then take a guess it’s… not the best truly a mess but the one i made and live with i’m painting pigs with lipstick just my face is red from all my misses and the dread of the daily dance that advances each time i’m out the door knowing i won’t know but i am showing i will show presence with a face of absence is a present nonetheless and the gifts of this insistence may bring my presence yet by trevor currie all rights reserved