"Sure, we were twins. We were the fucking Gibbons twins."
September faded in like fury at an old wound, crashed in as unstoppably as any tsunami, and I found myself -- perhaps unsurprisingly -- pulling thorns from my skin spitting mouthfuls of venom into the sink drowning with lungs full of oxygen. emotions are fatal when the jacaranda begin to blossom, feelings all a-riot in pale purple & summercreeping warmth. One day (or so I must believe, for sanity's sake if nothing more) I can see as it it crashes in like thunder, like cymbals, like rage & like inferno it will last a gasping lifetime and set all of us free, liberty like blood. and then, somehow I'm free of you, too.