Saturday, Dec. 27, 2003
baby Coca-Cola. We disappear at odd hours, and then for entire weekends. We are made to eat unfamiliar favorite food with only extended fingers. We are grateful
As we smile straight into the silver of the medicine chest mirror and brush all our teeth with an unrecognizable dentifrice.
Living our lives out under blue blankets. Refining an elution process, and when sleep does come; our scabby knees & elbows, and your quiet jaw line find new curling homes, forgetting that there was any other way to rest at night.