I am three pages into the most honest letter I’ve ever composed to a brother when I realize I’ve been writing with my finger. I tell my daughter it isn’t crying if you’re drinking. she’s asleep. it’s there she hears a piano. sees a typewriter.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
I am three pages into the most honest letter I’ve ever composed to a brother when I realize I’ve been writing with my finger. I tell my daughter it isn’t crying if you’re drinking. she’s asleep. it’s there she hears a piano. sees a typewriter.
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