Estival Solstice
Body and Limbs Somersault.
Glasses falling from my face for the umteenth time smash to the ground, body and limbs somersault in three directions never to be reacquainted —without the aid of tape. It’s reluctantly time for a new pair.
Sitting there, in my wonky tape-heavy specks, lenses scratched —scratches upon scratches— I ponder on the c…
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