the new home of @bookmark_terry
They were dancing as if swimming among the rocks. We stood by the wall, drinking beer out of the green-labeled can. We talked about shadow plays, operas and how your friend’s father witnessed Caruso break a goblet by his forceful voice. I laughed, wishing I could break the thin but inevitable glass between me and your world. Takako U. Lento
After the brief bivouac of Sunday, their eyes, in the forced march of Monday to Saturday, hoist the white flag, flutter in the snow-storm of paper, haul it down and crack in the mid-sun of temper. In the pause between the first draft and the carbon they glimpse the smooth hours when they were children– the ride in the ice-cart, the ice-man’s name, the end…