Quote
…a poet should carry death’s imminence with him at all times, the way a priest might his black book of extremely small psalms.
— Franz Wright
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within and beyond the frame: That night with the green sky - Tao Lin »
It was snowing and you were kind of beautiful
We were in the city and every time I looked up
Someone was leaning out a window, staring at me
I could tell you liked me a lot or maybe even loved me
But you kept walking at this strange speed
You kept going in angles and it was confusing me
I think…







