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my birthday

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i work at a theater now, haha ( Read more... )

the smoke runs blue from her fingertips and spirals like a vortex
mouths speak of crepes and stomachs join in the conversation
for the first time, she likes coffee
her hair curly, once straight, spirals out with the smoke to the gray sky
with white clouds sprinkled over, and a blue peeking through

it would have been better if steve irwin died on snakes on a plane

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I cut my hair.


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