Friday, March 4, 2011


Last night I dreamed I got bison faces tattooed on each of my shins, surrounded by feathery green leaves. I kind of regretted them, but only because of their permanence; my inability to replace them with something new eventually.

the black hair is still foreign but deeply soothing, it feels safe like protection, relief, a cipher, a hole, a cloak. but it is raveny and silken too.

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