June is nice,
I love the air.
I’m just making stuff up,
I’m full of it you know.
Isn’t it kind of nice
to know it?
It feels fresh.
I have friends
that pretend wisdom can be accumulated,
that love grows
up rather than down.
Ridiculous.
Things are jagged and raw,
even when they look black.
But I love the challenge of hunting
for that illusory exception,
because I play for...
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