Thin lips, hip dips, large pores, hairy pits.
Fine lines, crystal shrines, daydream at work, angel signs.
Inner child, spirit wild, heart so full, cotton candy tiled.
The beginning.
Crisp air, crunchy leaves on the ground, grey skies, fall dress and power boots. I need to get some computer work done though I am not completely sure what that means. My head is full of thoughts and tangents and dreams and ideas. Mint mocha latte with coconut milk, please. This morning I tried to procrastinate, unsuccessfully reading a book from my friend.
Upstairs in a local coffee shop, a large room with various gathered seating and booths. The poster on the wall includes the numbers 888. Angel numbers. I think that is a sign you are ready to be born. Am I ready to be your momma?
I am. I am!
Welcome to the world Lennie Rori!
You are such a fresh baby you are still labeled my brain child. A work in progress. But aren’t we all? Your birth was planned and unplanned. Your creation was brainstormed and abstract. You are right on time and I am so excited to watch you grow.
xo