I don't know what you think of white, but tonight, I see azalea petals outdoing the dark, and I think, you know, I'd love to have a clothesline. Yes. I'd love to amble between shirts and sheets, get caught up in the touch of everything clean. I'd love to play Goddess, wrap myself in white, garnish the smell of it, step gently over those midnight things that make us less than who we should be. I’d love to turn inside out, shine, glare, even. Untether the divine. Wreak transcendence. Awe everyone with their own possibility. -Katherine Gotthardt
