“Eyes like full moons…thumbs rubbing ink to a fade can no longer be read, just described, each curve of every letter glowing like moonlight, expanding in all their hundreds of thousands of spectacular finishes! See the flourishes, you lucky kid. Looking for my sister in her pale blues or barefoot could be a keystroke away, a daydream, attacking a search engine with a heart in America, pulling lightly on the ends of twisted plastic until the whole thing rolls over and out, examining the condition of our condition, concentrating on the ionic bond even when it hurts. Life, I love you, for in you I find it all, and still so much unknown to me. Kell. Where are you?”
Quiet life on softened streets, all the bad news backed away. You lucky kid. I washed my hair with 100,000 molecules. Each one like the full moon tonight, lighting up life in all the right ways. I made it to the site. I could peacefully fold my legs up under me on the couch facing the east, the house where nobody’s home, facing, pinching my slip as I picked it up and let it go hang around freely, pinching myself. You lucky kid you. All the pages were viewed, in a free sweep of eyes (not mine). To be sure they really existed, outside of myself. Not so easily destroyed by water, heat, air, time. Thumbs rubbing the ink to a fade I can no longer describe. Each curve of every letter like the full moon tonight, lighting up life in all the spectacular finishes. Flourishes. You lucky kid. Thinking of a friend, one I haven’t even heard of in years, a keystroke away, a daydream, attacking a search engine with a heart on a saturday in America, one truffle at a time, pulling lightly on the ends of twisted plastic until the whole thing rolls over and out, examining the condition of my condition, remembering the ionic bond even if it hurts. Life I love you.