Each new earth, once unlidded, works a change.
I blink, I blink, no idea
what scrub this is, the evergreens
not quite green, or any color.
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Autobiography Via Forgetting
1 I once heard someone call themselves “a string of memories.” The opposite is true for me. I’m a cement block of forgetfulness. For every new memory, something else gets […]
Don’t Worry about What Goes On
in the canopy, we don’t, insisted the Elder when I said What?(That was me, whatting all over the place.) Already have an account? Log in Join KR for even more […]
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