He wrote a book that scared him burned it before it was ever read by anyone but him the pages curling up in flame
She was grounded for a week because the smell of cigarette smoke still lingered in the kitchen the butts strewn across the lawn
He had a scorpion tattooed on his forearm before driving a truck across the country collecting magnets from each state he passed through
She walks to the plaza to buy books on conspiracy theories knowing her eighty-two year old knees will barely carry her home
She wears red shirt shirts with black pants on her days off and talks about the dirtiness of the house that only her eyes can see
After his partner left he said there is nothing for him not acknowledging his beauty and youthfulness
She wore white leather love and care and thanks poured out of her at the same speed as her own blood
He taped countless home movies of his beloved granddaughter learning to crawl and eventually walk until his lungs filled with fluid took him away from her
She permed hair and painted rich lady's nails had children of mixed ethnicity then forgot her first born
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2 comments:
I love how disjointed this is. It's so suggestive.
A good day out?
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