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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


05.10.01

Yesterday I thought about him.

He had said he needed change to get to Nevada, to see his son, the football star, graduate. That was last year, and I haven't seen him since that May, that protracted, lingering May before summer finally juiced my palms with a fine transient gold, a gold that slipped, quickly, between my fingers into winter, cold hard earth.

(Did you get there? Where are you?)






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