Breakfast with K., and we are the only two people here. A moment I can stay in for awhile. It comes to you out of the blue, perhaps just like this, while in the middle of a conversation with a friend you haven’t seen in months, how lucky you are to be here. 193 more words
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I never wanted to be a poet. I wanted to be a spaceman. So this is it. My wildest fantasy of being a poet exists in social media because I feel like you are walking down the street in your connected notebook.