The Year I Went Without Seeing You (in Everything)
// Mark DeCarteret
Here. I desire it. To end. Instead. It rises. And rises. No idea it is. One of. Stein’s roses.
I send. Dearest reader. Red. On a dare. As a ruse. There. I said it.
Here. I desire it. To end. Instead. It rises. And rises. No idea it is. One of. Stein’s roses.
I send. Dearest reader. Red. On a dare. As a ruse. There. I said it.
© 2024, LINES+STARS. All rights reserved.