the gently steeped and gathered leaves of emotion we paste and flatten in albums. delicious.
i was livid the next morning.
i could STILL be someone...but that was then and this is now.
and they come after weekends of drama; weekends of dust.
laid out on the bed like a chandelier unfolding and streams and streams....
innumerable...
i suppose each item was over a long time ago...before it really started.