Seventeen was the fastest year of my life.

[adesina]

My regret this time is not acrid, not the harsh burning of chemicals or the dead remnant of inorganic substances-- it is soft and dilute, like watered-down tea, the color a bare amber that is like watching the moon through a glass. This regret does not lay like a cadaver, leached onto certain areas of skin, preventing that place from seeing light,

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[grammarfight]

I wonder about all the stories and contexts from which this emerged. It is no less beautiful not knowing. It makes me wish we could go get a cup of coffee and read.