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She’d been the literary one, not him, better he remain true to his musical talents. Don’t worry, getting by, haven’t forgotten you. Can’t. Wouldn’t know how.
You squint at me as though you are only properly seeing me now for the first time. I scour your room which is the palest of blues.
When I made the discovery little over a week ago, I was far too excited to think in such rational terms. I had been foolish, addicted. I see that now.
“I still had this idea that there was a whole world of marvellous golden people somewhere…”
The sky. The grass. Blue. Green. Cloud country. Expansive. Overwhelming. So blue. So green. Screams. Mom. Toddler. Arm. Extends. Mouth. Open. Bees. Fill.
Literature, Litro: Arts & Culture
It’s that time of the year again. Everyone starting from the New York Times to your friendly neighbourhood bookstore owner is bunging “best of…” lists at you.
