lamplight
you ask me if i want the window open this morning. i say yes, the air flooding in – the smear of a raw throat the sky looks like a Francis Bacon painting – bacon is delicious. i flip an egg in the pan. paper grits into my earlobe – you're spreading it too thin – i glance down at the…
you ask me if i want the window open this morning. i say yes, the air flooding in – the smear of a raw throat the sky looks like a Francis Bacon painting – bacon is delicious. i flip an egg in the pan. paper grits into my earlobe – you're spreading it too thin – i glance down at the butter,
