Robin, you just built a constellation out of everyday wonders. I read each line like a star I could touch—each one familiar, specific, complete. That flannel shirt. That bass line. The almost-wrong restroom. The pink. The pillowcase. The laugh. I felt the rhythm you walked through, a kind of quiet music of becoming. No grand declarations, just a series of true, shimmering recognitions.
Tonight I needed your kind of euphoria—gentle, steady, unfurling on its own terms. You offered that. And I received it like a hand on my shoulder: real, warm, already known
Thank you for this beautiful post. I will think of you the next time I laugh with my belly or hear the grandkids call my partner he.
I love everything about this.
Euphoria is nodding along in identification and full-body exhaling as I read your words. Thanks, Robin. 🩵🩷🤍
Beard balm is a glorious and expensive rabbit hole to fall down. Euphoric indeed!
You gave me such a sense of who you are. An everyday, magical visit to another country.
Robin, you just built a constellation out of everyday wonders. I read each line like a star I could touch—each one familiar, specific, complete. That flannel shirt. That bass line. The almost-wrong restroom. The pink. The pillowcase. The laugh. I felt the rhythm you walked through, a kind of quiet music of becoming. No grand declarations, just a series of true, shimmering recognitions.
Tonight I needed your kind of euphoria—gentle, steady, unfurling on its own terms. You offered that. And I received it like a hand on my shoulder: real, warm, already known
Oh, this is a very beautiful one! Can feel the joy and I very much like the tiny tiny observations. It's the small things that add up to so very much.