I am typing your letters up from napkins and pink paper and old years I am trying not to be sick or dizzy myself out you know why it affects me is because words are all I really trust I believe at least the heart behind the words edging them out of mouths everywhere and all over and when I read your hand's labors when I read the professions you made and the little thoughts of tenderness throughout your early days I am discouraged because did it take us getting here to rid of those kindnesses in your bridges did it take our births to realize your deaths it's hard not to cry but I do this for you
A mixture of darks & lights in a cold wash cycle. True stories and true stories posing as fiction. Hope they don't bleed together and then shrink.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
who do I do this for
I am typing your letters up from napkins and pink paper and old years I am trying not to be sick or dizzy myself out you know why it affects me is because words are all I really trust I believe at least the heart behind the words edging them out of mouths everywhere and all over and when I read your hand's labors when I read the professions you made and the little thoughts of tenderness throughout your early days I am discouraged because did it take us getting here to rid of those kindnesses in your bridges did it take our births to realize your deaths it's hard not to cry but I do this for you
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