scrapped valentines and tangerine rinds

“and when loneliness wants you to change the ring in which my name is written tell loneliness to talk with me,”

“In one timeline we kiss but the stars don’t come down. In another you set a world on fire for me but I perish in the flames. Another and we’re strangers on a busy street, brushing by close enough to send each other reeling off balance but not stopping. Somewhere there’s a final space where your hand on my face is the punchy climax to an epic saga, where the way our mouths meet takes the breath right out of people’s throats. One universe has us right, of all the millions stacked on millions. So it’s not this one. I can live with that. The world is full of wonders and a hundred years ago the moon was too much to dream of touching. Look how far we’ve come. Turn over your shoulder and just look. Maybe we’ll come across each other at the turning of the century, racing across the breaches between worlds. I’ll build my life on that maybe.”

In your 20s, you’re a snack.

Boris Groh is one of my favorite artists, mostly because of his works that feature LARGE skeletons just doing their thing

“i ate death by the fistful to forget him.”