Posts
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Unbecoming
The streets have teeth and we hold our fingers with enough space for the others and drink cider on a corner where the ceiling above us blinks blue-blue-blue onto her tonsil-pink dress and someday I hope I never have to see it in a suitca
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Self-Portrait at 18
I know it’s a bad title
but I’m carving these words
out of my compacted mind.
I’m trying to mix the mud of my thoughts
into something more coherent
than to do lists and quiet -
Authorized Entrance Only
There is no twilight in the city.
Only time we collect in our mouths,
sun peeling color off the streets,
rats skittering down sidewalks.
The fire escape has been painted gold.
It shimmers at night, -
Ellipse
The record down the hall sounds like the static of space, drawn out and fading, as if a comet streaked by, leaving a trail of sound in its wake. -
rhythms of the endless
The wall is wearing away
in the places where she stands
to face it and rubs her palm
along the rough paint.
She does not consider the shades
or the light that sifts
in through the window.
She only paints the sill yellow, -
Birthday cake
I've been been thinking of you lately,
and for the past four years.
I've been thinking about that time
you stood with your neck bent
back, staring at the sky,
counting its emptiness,
Loves
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On the Election, Our Future, and Additional Resources for Support
Hello writers, artists, friends, and fellow members!
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