June 2009
1 post
I miss it a little, the bullets we shot through books. Now it’s all about shipwrecks and you’ll not feel the drowning. deer huckleberry, maybe its just the growing wrinkles in our brow. maybe it is the new honeysuckle growing outside of our window shutting closed the windows. maybe it is big eyes and a quiet stare, but whatever it is you and i are closing a door and sticking it closed...