ᓭི༏ᓯྀ

All flowers, in time.

Portra 160 // Minolta SRT 100

All souped, developed, & scanned with love.

you, // you //.

[pg 1 * pg 14]

honey,

they’re trying to kill me for the crime of kind and I want to go home. I want to take all my iron all the way off and slip into the ocean. I want to bury Alisa’s bow and my marrowed arrows with weeks of Winter on the beach. I want to shine my horns and bleach my wings. I want to wash away their bruising brushed on me in eons of saline. I want the static lullaby of seaskull to lead me out of joan and beneath a register and hugging her knees on Highway 18. I want hot april oranges and a cheek on my cheek and no teeth. some teeth. true teeth. muse indigo deusdream. blue like you but lined silverstein. I’m doing as gold as ever as you knew me to bee. from the beginning. thank you still for seeing me then and thank you now for still seeing. I pray the sun eases those bouldered shoulders every morning. you get the paper I’ll make the coffee. sway a secondhand story-time chair sunday easy. and if you won’t quit, would you smoke one for Susie for me?

{ plum::fuzz }

//

canon sd1100