May 15, 2016 § Leave a comment
Holy moly driving around, a warm breeze coming from all directions. i write every twelfth thought. something like that is only half-grounded anyway. if it was full-grounded: what a shudder. i have not the constitution.
my skin gets darker in the summer, let the beat drop and hold the prayer close — even the permanent marker on the t-shirt fades. overall, nothing is permanent, not even that buzzing sound coming from underneath your clothes.
it does not feel like the end of the year, because the weather is such a disappointing person. this year i wrote “ugh” and “sigh” on papers that i’ll never give out, realized students do not know my writing. does not matter.
the way the t-shirt hangs. where it drapes is like an invitation.