Pink boa feathers draped around ebony shoulders. An infectious and toothy grin shaping many-folded words. Ivory and plastic harmony. A game of hurry up and wait between co-conspirators. The vague threat of polysaturation after a weekend of broken backs. Ice baths and early evenings only kick the can further down the road. The colors of the world bleaching out a little bit at a time. The promise of old age, is everything adopting a grayish patina. From memory to mirror.
6:39 p.m. - 2020-02-05
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
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