We’re at sea, hanging onto the splinters of a sunken boat. Minutes before, we fought, a routine battle in our ongoing epic. Then the sinking--the ocean itself bored of our conflict. The sky grays, the water swells, soon we’ll disappear. But who goes first? I want it to be you as I’m tasting seawater, feeling my legs becoming cast iron. I’m sure you feel the same.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Posted by Christian Bell at 8:00 AM
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