A little gypsy with short hair peers through a grime-frosted window. Her hurt heart has healed slowly. I open an artery for clarity's sake. Conversation flows unstemmed. Years of growing together make for a certain kind of twin-threading. She searches abandoned zoos for leftover fangs. I keep watch from the walltop. We chat about Cyrillics and geriatrics, while the sun bleeds across her perfunctory scavenging.
4:46 p.m. - 2017-07-03
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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