There. Scars on my palm. Lying inside an opened hand. i don't remember cutting me. though i do remember pulling out the glass thin hard brittle. all of what is not my palm.
Sat on a bench under some nice trees on the green tonight. Late enough to know no one with good intentions was going to be there. I was looking for a little bit of that fear. to bring my thoughts, blurred swirling thoughts, into a sharp instinctual focus. And I found it when a stranger passed. I tensed my back, shifted weight to the balls of my
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I walked out after the moon tonight and followed it to the shore. A quiet shore, just feet of sand hidden under rolls of coarse sea grass. The wavelets twist and bind this grass into strands, and the strands splice in the shallows to form mats and cables, and like long braids of hair, this black sea grass marks the swaying handshake of lagoon and
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I saw this in the walk today and wondered who drew it there when the cement was wet and unprotected. and how it manages to stay long after promises of who carved such silly words into you.
Went to the ever beautiful and polluted New Haven bay for some hott fireworks action in celebration of America's Independence, and property rights for all (until the latest imminent domain supreme court decision anyway...)
Having a wonderful time back at school. New Haven in gorgeous and I'm making interesting friends left and right. Living on campus with a bunch of high schoolers. They are excied and hopeful, very little cynicism, and they love to talk, debate, enjoy each other's company
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I'm thinking of eating you with ice cream. seeing you round with my child sliding this band on your finger touching your lips while you sleep kissing your mouth between words trusting your hands to carry my heart.