10 March 2012

Currently reading:

by Sasha Fletcher

"I have been dreaming she said Of handguns. Of shootouts. Of men without names on horseback with saddlebags full of sadness. Full of fire. Full of all kinds of things not worth declaring.

I took all of her dreams & put them in the oven. Then we ate them for dinner. Afterwards we rose above the house. We rose above the sheets of the bed & the paper that had flown around all day in the wind & above the clouds & there were lights in the clouds & I tried to get closer to them but I couldn't."
Absolutely lovely.

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