You're looking very pretty today.
My Pleasant Afterlife
'Zine Notes
I write about music.
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You were looking for something. Food, maybe. An ink pen. A word on the tip of your tongue.
Maybe it was just an itch. A couple of eyeblinks. The silence before a commercial.
I am there, in all your brief pauses, in the air between your words.
I love you.
There is nowhere else I can be.