They’re taking the signs, the ones that spoke in stories, in sadness, in second chances. They take words, leave worry and look west.
Read Morethe single wrong coloured tulip
Read MoreI walk backward
Read MoreI am a mess.
Read MoreThings I've been working on, unable to finish properly due to school/travel/work/etc.
Read MoreKept busy by another year of schooling, I didn't do much posting. This is something I wrote while settling into Istanbul.
Read MoreMoving rapidly from minimal prose to diary I’ve no rhythm and can’t dance, I stand to the side of the milonga while they tango under the glow of antiquity.
Read MoreThink of breathing; think where sounds are made where tongue hits teeth, infant noises. I roll the tongue and throw letters to the back of my throat with enthusiasm.
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