Did you?
Yes, I did.
Why?
Because.
Why do you think I don't-
Um, I just know you.
Um, I don't know what your reasons are.
I recently came to the discovery.
I know.
It's easier for me.
Let's avoid this subject.
I knew all of that.
I do apologize.
Do you?
I want to be more in the present with you.
I want that too--but my writing is the present more
than you will ever understand.
But it leads me to desire the past.
I can't just have one drink, you know?
I overconsume. that. this. you.
I know.
I feel the same way.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
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to have sticky pins for fingertips and ballpoint pens for thumbs. then I could fascinate myself to you, and write away doldrums.
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July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
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our silence comes easy and there is much to it the commingling of our fingers and the swapping of palm oils and the nimble saltation of ...
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
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Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
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July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
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stuck-wallpaper, tickled, matted-madness, in the morning before matinee wallflowers at school dances just want to be asked. ask them. they...
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The ache in my jaw reminds me of my age, that I'm still cutting teeth on broken sage and giving up meat is my best bet, because I'm ...
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