maggiechirdo likebones,likeskin: goldenshovelafterkimaddonizio

Went to the library and donated the school dance dresses I’ll never don again. Hope the next to wear them is hotter, happier. Hope they wear it (their heart) on all my sleeves like hand-me-downs without any closet full of bones, 2 a.m. selfies with the skirt hiked up like tomorrow they’ll still be the same them under their skin, florals?forspring?groundbreaking.

Well, actually… in spring the florals are literally breaking ground.

That something has been done before is no case not to do it again.

We never say what we mean out loud to mean woman ice queens with snow white, moon white hair. Too busy muscling through the dirt in this slithering season for the mere chance to feel something straining, upturned.

Intricateritualsfortouch

Hello Kitty tattoos coat the arms of the woman cutting my hair and I can’t help but love her. To love is to trust I’ve put my most precious asset in her care, take her warning seriously: New Orleans is very busy followed up with Spiritually, I mean. Tourists and crowds never bothered me and I try immensely not to bother the dead, only reach out to a few in the cold hours of morning. Groggily think of my Uncle Ross or Dickinson or the last Russian princesses and every dog I’ve ever known. Why question the dead when I can let them play with my hair instead? Do not shout, do not demand proof, only sit still a head in sure hands.