two decades and a sailboat, on top of wind like poetry and a blown out canvas steering wheel. here’s paradise. here’s whipping hair and heated skin. here’s let down and escapism and motivation and stagnation and favoritism. and visions and first aid and jazz blues. involuntary muscle spasms. naked toes on hardwood floors. arms on hips. bruises. here’s the perfect island getaway. right in front of me, as close as my tongue to my teeth.
door slam. go home.
grow up, fever dream.
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