i always knew you were a reptile! little old you!
why are we even doing this, across the table, broken eye and sunken, thrown to pieces in the car. am i too selfish? or am i someone worse? does it all come down to forgetting my paints in the car, and you coming back to bring them to me?
i can't understand why we come together for death but not for life. someone put paints back in my broken and sunken eyes, forget the broken pieces, the long, too familiar rides across the subway, the mistaken taken photographs of the sunset, the cross shaped pattern on the moncloa station, running and crying through the crosswalk, for. more.