|
March 28, 2001
|
|
| Fear of the page | |
| I had a lot of words in my head, but now they are gone. If I can coax them back? The navy blue sky. The windows were coated with silt. Marvelous. I am living in a swamp. Undone. The body cracks into pieces, no blood, just a neat disintegration. How do you write dialogue? Just answer the questions. The snow came to visit. It kissed my forehead so many times. Dear Enigma, loneliness is not fatal. Drain. Hospitals loom at you, white and sweaty. Roslyn is just like spring. Dear Hemoglobin. Absence. Faith is out in the street, too late at night.
That's all for now. Can I break this into paragraphs? It's just that I'm so formless! |
|