So, naturally, it's the perfect time for me to get back into the short story for my dad, right? Right. I don't know why, but just now I had this random flash of not-quite-inspiration, more like just a sense of it finally being the right time. We'll see. I really do have to keep working right now, though. I hope in its current fevered state, my brain's capable of subconsciously writing it for me while I deal with other stuff, so I can just sit down later and have the story flow.
In the meantime, here's a poem I wrote years ago that I've always rather liked. I don't think I've posted it before.
pen & ink
write all over me. write
on my eyelids.
write on my teeth.
write on my stomach.
write on my lips.
write on my palms.
write on my tongue,
my back, my breasts,
write on my bones.
and then
slowly
read me aloud.
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