Tolstoy Tuesday: Wednesday Night Edition
All grown up When we were childrenyou would borrow my journaland write love poems about other girls in the margins.I said You should get your ownand you scoffed:Journals are for needy people. That summer you set yourself on fireand declared the people who looked at youto be pathetic voyeurs. I smelled your burning flesh and couldn’t help but smile:finally, your actions trumpedyour words. There are those of uswho take comfort in spreading the shit and…
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