When the bed gets hot and boring, I chuck my shit on the floor and open the window.
It makes the duvet more important when the floor is hard and the breaching cold won't leave you alone. It gives you a reason to be attached to this amalgamation of material, no matter what it looks like or where it's been.
I don't get how the curtains change from red to blue, or why the sun came up grey, but in all it's strangeness, it looks like a nice day.
we're all sluts.
The difference when you no longer have the right to eat something that's there whether or not you would.
Because you don't chew up something that's beautiful. Beauty fades. Hunger gains. Fuck a trash can.
There was a blush in your stomach last summer.
it doesn't matter.
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