I want to be the first to know what I want to say, but it doesn’t always work out that way.
The words I knead in my mind still need shaping today, still need baking today. I proof them on the countertop because it feels like everyone is standing so close together that it has warmed the air. You never really need the scarf when you go Christmas caroling. You never really need the beanie in the protest march. I waited to watch my words rise to me. It is crowded today. In the world, in my mind.
Leftover dough is sticky on my hands. I like that I know it.
I can tell from a pinch if it’s destined to be a sweet thing or a shaped thing or a sharp bite of fire.
I press my fingerprint into the side.
It pushes back.
I smile at the resistance, at the way it takes its time.
The fire is warm and happy to wait.
I pray this small thing feeds us.
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Day 5 of 30