It rained touch-and-go affection last week. Through stuffy overcast evenings and sleep-drunk hangover mornings. The trough of an afternoon wave sorts spectral sirens onto islands. My lack of surprise flirts with confusion, like a well-practiced waltzing couple. A glance at an old yellow calendar assures that none of this was scheduled. I sketch out a list of names with a broken grease pencil. I front load familiar scripts as a shield against the drizzle.
11:59 a.m. - 2017-09-18
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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