page corners, turned down

Since moving into the house, my mornings have started slowly. Warm water with lemon. Windows open, even if just a crack. And one book I keep nearby: Black Liturgies by Cole Arthur Riley.

I fold the corners of pages when I come across a line that stays with me. In this book, I’ve folded almost every one.

Her writing is more than devotional—it’s a kind of breath. Each page offers a small truth, something to carry into the day. Some mornings I only read a line. Some days I sit with a paragraph I’ve already marked, letting it do its work again.

There’s a stillness to it. A way of being held without performance. These pages have become part of my rhythm, part of the quiet I’m learning to keep.

-L