This month I've felt like the Johnny-Come-Lately of inspiration. A bobblehead of broken smiles that rocks back and forth in perpetuity while the driver of the car navigates a dirt clod-bedecked road. There's still a moth bottled up in my lungs. I miss writing with an addict's absenteeism.
3:17 p.m. - 2016-08-15
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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