Vol. 7

Argument Against the Earthy Pigments


Our family motto is

I want to hold my son and have him talk at me with the cuteness of dumping beer-drowned slugs.

Pericarditis. Someone put a cork in the aorta. It sounds like a valentine.

The apples are at that stage of unblemished ripeness that is perfect and I don’t have to worry about finding worms in them yet. But that will come.

I am filled with affection today. Titian red.

Is that her?


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