What I’ve learnt from the distance is emptiness. It’s a dependence war. Read your letters from the shore as a brother.
A shore of rocks in the shade, with a pack of musts and shakes. Creeping through, and that position (weird), breathing.
Could you see the light? Can you see it? It’s a polish green, where we get there and clean the bathroom. Lately we’ve been cooking apples. Expectation drops.
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