the eye socket covered in rags
what I couldn't see
the onion peels and wet feet in the bathtub
losing every layer of dry skin
could not begin
to unearth
the shell
the tortoise
turning over
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Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring...
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"Well...that was dramatic." I didn't know what he meant until I saw the ink spilled everywhere and the moths in her hair like ...