She whispered in my ear, silence. A textured, colorful fatigue of sound that felt medicinal. Words from my ears, trickled down, into my hand. My palm was read. Said I'd achieve things just beyond my reach. Said I was talented, had a voice for the masses.
Tears. Tears that puddled in my hand formed a mirror. I see the me that she saw. Eyes look hopeful, smile is slow and confidence. No wrinkles. Lost a little weight. Looked at my hands, callousness on my fingertips. They are beautiful.
Photo: Favorite mug and new journal I bought taken with iPhone3Gs, Hipstamatic app (Buchhorst H1, Big Up)