Thursday, May 27, 2010

Solo Flight

The people who are your people leave you. A matted feather, you, unfloating, hollow at the core. Say not a word and stay for the drinks, hope the spirits spread you apart, a plumage to dry on the wind.
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EARLY MORNING CLEO / July 29, '25 - 4:55 AM

So yeah I put the time on there because it's a ridiculous time of the day.  But, also, I wanted to say, too, that my cat, my beautiful C...