It's less this lack than finding ways to share what warmth we have to bring some light with words to watch the stars, to read a book and finding we are far from powerless even in this dead of blackout. This is a very late entry for Brendan's weekend prompt at toads that I also link up at Tuesday platform.
Perfection is a pockmarked chin, the dented delftware, or a greasy fingerprint in a book unread. Perfection is a day between, the sickle moon and lukewarm tea shared with friends. Perfection is what was and is. Linked to Toads