“Do not attempt to say everything at once.
Take advantage of the fourth dimension: time. ~ D. Bonta”
Who remembers how the index finger slid into circles on a rotary phone, going around the wheel? Each number released, bringing voices closer through the ether.
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I’m not very curtains, said our landlady, gesturing toward the blinds. Above each window frame, a scarf of crinkled white cotton, looped through hooks on the wall.
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Overheard at a meeting: Ontological uncertainty. The oscillatory drift between states of desire.
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Why don’t you tilt your head back in the swing before pushing forward again?
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An invisible umbrella connects nine dots with four unbroken lines.
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Citrus, tuberose, gardenia. The woman holds an acrylic cube filled with coffee beans under my nose. Vetiver, patchouli, musk.
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Gas light flicker, wind in an accordion. Ache and catch in a tango passage.
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Fluted sails on a boat going downriver. Something too expands in my side.
In response to How to talk.