Dread to think what you’d say, if you hit the right keys

I try to leave no paper trail except, with print outs, it’s unavoidable. Or screengrabs. You could Tumblr the shit out of those.

Not that I’m writing an essay. In fact, my sentence small output wouldn’t be better vocal, the way some plays look page-sparse but it’s all in the delivery and the torso saying it (Matt Damon? Please Matt Damon.)

I tell you I wish that I didn’t, and you star out words like a TV show ten years ago censoring, and we carry on talking and nothing’s resolved and when I close my laptop, a clip shut like a clutch purse, everything’s inside ’til tomorrow.

And always. Like, there’s no cure, for what this is. What is this?

Screen Shot 2014-05-05 at 00.37.56

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