I’m looking at my nails now. They look like steam. White and brown, live and dead- like an opaque barrier between what is and what could be. At the end of my fingers are crusty crescents of a stale star.
In the ambit of possibility, where does beyond begin?
Day 34 of 108
Whoa, will you look at that?! A little over a month of unbroken blogging. Not too shabby! Here are a few things that I am grateful for toda...
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