then it was september

i have written, in these pages, plastic and swallowed, small and estranged, little dances and talks and chats about time, safety, the other things. and they have dripped, dribble banter from the tips of my tongue onto the page and this once, just this once, not left sitting in the rain and worrying about rent money beer money timeless tales to tell and think about. so long since i've thought these things, but now and smoothly dispelled, i know there here. it is a bittersweet bite to swallow. but here it is, restless and drastic. love goes like this, doesn't it?

2002-09-24 | 3:51 p.m.
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