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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

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


06.03.20

Today I painted a deck, erasing wear-and-tear with the slapping of a brush. Afterwards we walked Sam, passing dead birds, four, lone and pressed flat in the street. A boy flew a kite on the football pitch, as clouds brushed the top of Benbo. In the dugouts, teens hung out. Covid-19 fatalities and new cases are on the decline in Ireland--on the 25th of May, no deaths were reported, for the first time in over two months.






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