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Years pass and I am drunk on wholeness. Laughter sticks to my throat like honey, sickly sweet. False tenderness, like her mouth on mine, consumes me, and I am better, I am blank, I am waiting for Real Life to start. I have been pumped full of health, it pulses, thick and sluggish, in my veins, keeps me listless, … Continue reading



She leaves the house in the morning, surrounded by the completeness, the simple fullness of summer. And everything is as it should be; the dependable sound of her shoes hitting the path into the woods, the deliberate crunching of stones and dirt underfoot, correspond perfectly to the tightening of the muscles in her legs as she … Continue reading