no one will see that.
she told me that her dog died
time loses texture. renders me monochrome and jacketless. thoughts of you. like wording the endless screw. particles of broken back beats. and fists full of midnight otis redding. scotch.
at the other end of the couch. he sits. spitting blood into a clear glass.
fast posting, part two
i just found out this past weekend that, before then, my boyfriend had never had a Snake Bite.
lately, on friday mornings, it's been difficult to decide whether to make a coffee or a stiff drink.
like holidays and everything else, it's just some arbitrary moment in my life where things will change again. that will mark a moment. not the huge change that will come. later on. but a good one. a sign one. better than trying hot dogs from a can for the first time. less significant than saving a life.
because i can't seem to write what i've been trying to write (because i didn't sleep at all last night) --