our golden shoulders
I can feel the laughter of the masses stroking my sunburned earlobe. I yank the sunglasses off my collar and force them through my wavy brown sideburns. I’m having trouble reading between the lines I used to see between. I can see my reflection in the cigarette case and the scrambling sound my brain makes each time I swallow is so comforting beneath the sound of Los Angeles commotion. The evening will not slide out of my palm tonight because I am one of the unreasonable ones. Kick off your slippers and shuffle your pile of sorrows in two stacks of three. The grapes are always surprised at my degree of uncertainty.
first one of the year & it's gorgeous.
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