cdlxxxiv. pastures

laboring over goodbyes always felt trite, so forgive the brevity of this partial ending, partial forgetting. please queue at creating patterns. this is the end, my friends. comments are appreciated.

cdlxxxiii. i will be an archive

until further notice.

cdlxxxii. being heavy

writing is a way to bring the words heavily onto the page slightly nervous from their birth.

cdlxxxi. where it starts

the way one goes nowhere important. your voice is so vibrant, like a child’s, taking words for the playthings they are. from nowhere but the sky you see daily, the beginnings come circling like birds.

cdlxxx. in the dream

i buried my heart in a patch of dirt, in the middle of a sun-scorched field, left it there, never to return.

cdlxxix. memory

you don’t know how to make up for it.

cdlxxvii. evening

when evening comes, we take our glasses, break them, sweep up the shards to break them again tomorrow.

cdlxxiv. grass

i’ve been lying on the grass, admiring the way one goes nowhere important, only tickling the idea of meeting the sky in the weight of one’s body, there present in no one else’s laziness.

cdlxxiii. blackout

tonight, it will be dark. again. the last candle melts away. there isn’t much to do but to wait.

cdlxxii. you hate flickr?

then you do not understand my art.