12 september

When my nails get too long I’m strung along by flashing fingers in unnecessary flourish – nourish the opportunity to undervalue immunity we tune our strings to lingering to half-formed thoughts and maps unfolded – we’re old enough to tell our secrets to – I’m used to pushing harder than the space inside allow – now we lay our cards out and now we hit the deck pasting what’s next into anotherday scrapbooks while oatmeal boils over and nobody answers the phone