I like this 'clean out + grow up' phase.
jazz & the webs of a cob. dancing & nudity. a bruised throat & left-over eggs. memories & rummikub. rotary dial telephones & picture frames. dust & makeup. vacuum cleaners & a burnt bikini. remorse & a tracklist for a mixtape that I will never make, because the boy that it was created for, I do not love like I used to. a new bed brings new sleep.
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you still didn't tell me who the other girl is.
ps. stealing from publix does not & will not hurt me!
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