The time of year when I look so deeply into a spy hole that I fall in love with the area behind where I stare as long as the colors torom that they take the form of charts, where I answer my own questions, I do not ask. Why do I write in a journal without leaves, years without days in? [I have emptied a bag of marshmallows during the night, that's how I make it through. The days]
2014 (10) April (3) March (4) December (3) WwW Thaw Foam 2013 (95) December (2) November (6) October (19) September (40) August (28)
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