| rose_rain | ||
| stork daddy |
there are too many things we cannot touch. even in this brimming world, there are words like rose rain. words which represent a world we've never lived in, but could. but in your faces soft tension, in all the ways it could move, in all the ways it will, these words become real. i can touch rose rain. i can touch blood july. they are the movements of your small taut neck, and in your sudden ironic ironic bite. they are the stillness of the softness underneath your eyes, and under your sloping jaw. they are them, but all of the descriptions these are not. all of the valid worlds we are told repeatedly are uninhabitable. empty planets, too many moons. how can i not thank you everyday for overwhelming my words. how can i not thank you for rose rain in blood july? |
020910 |
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| . | . | 041219 |
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| amy nada | . | 090709 |