blind_spot_between_the_years
raze when we are old and well-preserved from all the deals we made with slick old scratch to keep our youth, the polaroids we take will seem a little funny to our least convenient friends. dance, soft tissue. realign. some crooked kindness kissed us blind. help yourself to nothing. it's everything we've got. don't you fret about the distance between the guarded and alone. and every orchard keeper's rendezvous will get the demon gunning for his due. all we've lost to memory's erosion will crystallize and flush anew when fire ants discover you. 160106
what's it to you?
who go
blather
from