blather
risking_wrong
ever dumbening each day a thrown pot
wedge center open pull shape
each day an adventure formed by attachment by avoidance by mindfulness.
and sitting with this spinning wheel
which sits on this spinning wheel
my hands form only what they can.

strings of days, then, become accidental series of sorts.
vision leads
for a while
until what is takes over—the clay is back in charge.
mistakes are not and nothing is thrown
away,
not even the wet slump of fallen,
for the hands saw something there
even if
even if only
even

damn.

each day a thrown pot, a risk.

~~~

and even in this there are holes
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