when I was a child, the children I was with did not turn on me. like our parents after us, we took on faith that our present loneliness would go elsewhere. if at any point I felt strong enough to lift a boulder onto my back, I became bored. I was drawn to books having in them unreal prose dedicated to thunderstorms and I filled these books with joy. I don’t mean it salaciously when I paint for you the few women cramming into an outside bath. they had me surrounded.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC
when I was a child, the children I was with did not turn on me. like our parents after us, we took on faith that our present loneliness would go elsewhere. if at any point I felt strong enough to lift a boulder onto my back, I became bored. I was drawn to books having in them unreal prose dedicated to thunderstorms and I filled these books with joy. I don’t mean it salaciously when I paint for you the few women cramming into an outside bath. they had me surrounded.
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