Monday, April 6, 2020


—ALL I DO IS WRITE ABOUT IT


                                                  Let’s Twirl

If nothing else, let’s twirl inside the bell jar, hail or no hail, smoky jazz playing near a fire, lights on low, a slow sway and tuck, nothing here to harm us, those sharp words needless now, ridiculous now. It’s the end of the world after all, so I’ll hold your face in my palms, as precious as the sun. I’ll give you my best kiss, my first and last kiss, if you pinkie-swear you’ve missed me, and won’t let me go.

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