Saturday, July 6, 2013

another page

He stood in the doorway of a jewelry store that was neither open or closed because he said he likes the way it makes him feel. He said his voice sounds different in that small space. It did sound different, slightly. I looked at a ruby ring shaped like a snake in the window. I hissed to hear my own vocal cords play tricks on me. I felt the same and remained stagnant in the doorway, taking up space.

Precision and pleasure will continue to build a life I might one day claim.

What might one day mean something is presently formless; without form, the sky opens up and what I call "me" finally rests beneath a sea of stars.

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