I grasp desperately at stenciled letters on a faded white page. Despite my resistance, all I'm left with is a clean, blank sheet.
I fold it into an origami dove and leave it at the birthday doorstep of a previous lover. I leave no name.
On the drive home, I stop and pull over to stare across the rice fields. The skies are choked with the smoke of a dozen summer fires. I ponder whether I am standing at the precise center of the universe.
12:22 a.m. - 2015-08-06
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Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
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