i woke up in my garden and realised it was summer. everything is green and wet and sticks together. the sun, the sun, the small green tomatoes. shoes? i've forgotten how they feel through summer calouses. we bury our bottles halfway in sand between glasses of dry red wine or cold clear gin. we bury our smoldering fires like responsible citizens. cigarettes taste well placed. oh god, what grace, that it comes every year.
~~kristin.michelle.dennis
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