They All Can Go

It is so cold now that it’s night, she is asking – and she’s right. She shows the latest radar, says to me unfortunately tonight won’t have a lonely little cloud to dot refrigerator skies. And I am constantly convinced that I’ve lived another life or got mixed up in something different, some mistaken change of names. She was right about the weather and we watch the playoff games through sliding windows and the wind blows and it sounds just like a name I used to know and while the windchimes do sound lovely they can go fuck themselves for all I care.

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~ by perfectionatrix on June 3, 2015.

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