Wednesday, February 25, 2009

dispensary



Old pillows. The color of a milk carton. Circa midnight, or was it four a.m. The first time we went to the circus, candy was spilled in the aisles. Banisters and darkness above, it reminded me of the ocean. Arms alight slid across. The smell of freshly pressed plastic filled the air.

"What about knives and rain?"

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