Hastily written letters to childhood friends. Evenings emptied of obligation. The relief of response. Of enthusiasm. Fantasies about once-lost lovers. One dressed in black, with a car trunk filled with pools of half-dried vomit and partially-liquefied maggots. Another in the shape of two perfect moons framing an abused flower. A freckle-shaped sunset gilding the blonde forcep-scars of a third. Framing their memories beside the petal-strewn graveyard of songbirds and regrets.
4:55 p.m. - 2023-07-28
Recent entries:
Lore Can Us - 2023-08-18
The Way of Weariness - 2023-08-08
Sailing By Starlight - 2023-08-04
Forty Two Shadows - 2023-08-04
One Plus One Plus Two Plus Half - 2023-08-04
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