Sunday January 1st 2017
Shut up. Take me to the colors. If I fall envelop me swiftly in the thick breath of masses so I don't forget where I've been. If I do, drum me into the frequency of working bees so flowers never cease to astound me. Take the parts of my body that refuse to comply with the seasonality of beauty and let them bloom on their own time. If you see them, tell the gods that I dance that I practice old magic with my body. Tell them music is Braille for my blind bones to find their way into being.
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