photography

Things Take Time

She swore the trench knife she carried in her purse saved her life hitchhiking home. She weighed maybe eighty pounds dirty tight clothes that dared anyone to say shit took the dirty spoon from my dried-up cereal bowl wiped it on her leg tapped out a pile of yellow powder from a film can water

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The Window, The Sea

the window is the window: the glass, the same the wall, the same the same  house the same sea, never the same, not for a moment not the air, nor the water. when I close my eyes to the window’s glow the sea takes everything: my lungs, my hair, my hands on the table the

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