she loves wildness, and wildness fills me. paperweight lifted and the papers scatter. and it is perfect. you know what else. how impossible it was to taste with a sour taste. and how the sweetness can replace, replace. salt and sugar is just for shorthand. just time passing. i do not write even one letter, because that letter would need an envelope to hold all of time that has passed. which is a brimming, bucketful, galloping, gobbling, eyeful, spill, mouthful. of red fruit soaked in white milk in a bowl dipped with a spoon to be gentle on the tongue. i am protecting this place i've found. standing at the center remembering it. the particular spelling of it. the directions clear, how to, so much.
face, fair copy, feature, fiction, file, first approach, fleece, flimsy, flour, foam, form, free admission, free pass, free rider, free ticket, glass, glaze, graph, grass, guest pass, hand, holograph, homily, ice paper, instrument, ivory, journal, lace, lath, leaf, letter, manila, matter, memoir, mere shadow, milk, newsprint, nonfiction, note, note of hand, onionskin, opus, outline, page, paper house, paragraph, parchment, pass, pearl, penscript, plank, play, poem, post, preliminary, screed, scrip, script, scrive, scroll, second draft, sepia, shadow, shake, shaving, sheathe, sheet, shingle, silver, skeleton, sketch, slat, slate, slip, snow, soup, special, speech, splinter, stone, streak, study, swan, thatch, the written word.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
now i am sure
chloe sevigny sat beside me to see clare open her eyes once more, to see her flush again. once glimpse in the post-game, a reminder, wearing red and certainly her yellow hair. now i'm in the game after the dream, i'm a friday night. just how strange it is to be empty of her, and yet be full. how on earth did i end up here? i keep finding myself living deeper inside my body, the path she set me on, set by example. every time i stretch, i reach for her. i'm getting taller.
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