Wednesday, April 17, 2013

on her birthday...



Five mile run through the leftover autumnal haze of Bradley park as the metaphysical menarche of dawn broke into shards of glass perrywinkle overhead crimson smudges like bad 80's mascara before transitioning into shingles of light...life tastes just like yer lips baby, fresh and just a lil' wet and ready to blossom into the covenant of spring...

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