in_absentia ovenbird When the wind exceeds 20km/h it scoops up a soul from the river’s froth and becomes a living presence. It walks with me, its firm hand on the small of my back, its shoulder bumping mine, its fingers lifting words from my mouth and swallowing them, ripe red grapes plucked from the esophageal vine. I am practiced now at running my fingers through all that remains unseen. I know how to love the shape of a particular absence, how to make room beside me for the exact dimensions of a body that isn’t there. 260131 ... releaseofwarmth A walk in the woods and I will try Something under the trees that made you cry It's_so_erotic_when_your_makeup_runs 260131 what's it to you? who go blather from