An impromptu tribute to a friend of mine who has always managed to replenish the parched surface of my heart, no matter the degree, frequency, or perceived triviality of my complaint. I’ve oft sought her counsel much to my fear of draining her own pool of resilience in her own affairs in addressing my comparatively small tribulations. Still, she she’s always made time for my plights and has somehow managed to keep open and compassionate tone with me amongst her own troubles. A few weeks ago (on my birthday no less), she sent me photos of her as a belly dancer. I immediately, wondered what I might do with them as a memento of thanks. Then the moment happened: I was heartbroken again, and out of it all, she once again helped me replenish my spirit without question or judgement, as dry as I was. Hence, the dancer flooding a dessert cauldron that once gave home to the coldest skeletal trees in her shadow in the darkest of nights. They will thrive again, just as I will with her benevolence.
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