to the ghosts now.
A stomach churning spaghetti
over a postcard.
From the perspective of the
stomach.
Get a lens on this. I potentially
have two hours
to write it all down. Packing away
the limbo I’m in.
I’ve been in. Partitioned funk. I
look better
at the movies than I do on a
dancefloor.
The shame of. The shame of.
I need
to be there in person. Manic
toxicity & all.
Are you up to speed? In
general?
Let’s read a few
books.
