when i think of the word
splatter i find within myself
a pang, a metallic taste in my
mouth that is not at all pleasant.
i have a few things going on. i’ve
been wet. it’s been rainy. these
things wash away memories. but
my memories get washed away
anyway, despite preventative
measures. did you know, by the
way, that i write in order to remember?
not that everything i write is ‘true’ –
but also, do i write to forget? do i
wish the rains would come and
wash the city clean again and again?
