Bl i n k Thought sitting eating hot dogs on the back porch, with soft processed buns and sandaled feet. our feet are touching, our hair is wet and full of pool scent, we drip vanilla ice cream. REGRET I WAS THINKING ABOUT BOATS AND FLOATING AWAY ON ONE, I JUMPED WHEN OUR LEGS TOUCHED, FALLING OF THE PAGE, FALLING THROUGH THE LINES. ISOLATION VS. SOLITUDE beach plate salmon. day and the the to day, rice a is “My playhouse is underneath our house, & I hear people telling each other secrets.”
