Embrace with open palms, these accidental episodes as they take place, in past tense. These sour and all so suddenly, unpleasant words you did not mean to speak. Actions you threw far from yourself in a moment tight, and brittle. These are frames, no longer subsisting in the present moment.
They have found a nook between your thoughts, and will relentlessly try to seep out when you aren’t looking. Sometimes to remind you of how awful you had been, but most times – just to remind you they still remain; even if only in shades of washed out grays.
Time will attempt to round the edges furry. Soon enough, frost will begin to form upon the thin films. It will seek to erase what your hands built when you were rightfully careless. Allow it to do so, watch as it’s effort is persistent and try to encourage these doings; you will soon be grateful for.
Grant time with forward grace to pull from under it’s sleeves – magic.