February 2012
25 posts
smalljoys: Yours & Mine, Alice Fulton →
Through your lens the sequoia swallowed me like a dryad. The camera flashed & forgot. I, on the other hand, must practice my absent- mindedness, memory being awkward as a touch that goes unloved. Lately your eyes have shut down to a shade more durable than skin’s. I know you love distance,…
