driving in rusted cars and listening to hip hop from a few years ago.
my stomach hurts a bit. i hate to eat in the morning.
i want some matted lavender and golden sunshine with my coffee.
yellow autumn leaves are floating falling like butterflies and ash from the fireplace.
india where are you?
i miss my minnesota.
piano twinkles an endless echo.
what is like honey? those golden cello melodies like my golden boy.
solid metal text i coat with ink and run the machine over and over to indent into paper. i wore a denim apron with my hair pulled back and up and away from my face. my fingers muddied and streaked.
cinnamon gelato and christmas songs played around painted dots. i make faces at christa and natalie and i giggle profusely.
i miss you, my dear, i miss you.
cliched paper crinkling as i pull the paper into points and tape it shut.