A mysterious lump of acorns and stones, piled with children's hands upon a lonely table. A plastic cart drunklenly slumped in the shadows, rusted over with white mold and green moss. Alone in a wilderness maintained by fabrication, a dark canopy becomes a trellis for a handful of stars. Just for a few moments. And then fogged over by the jagged breath of an early California chill.
3:45 p.m. - 2021-10-14
Recent entries:
A Relative Drizzle - 2021-10-28
Sole Soloist - 2021-10-21
Pulling Sky - 2021-10-21
Thirty Five Proof - 2021-10-14
Back Teeth Bile - 2021-10-14
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