In the pale blue shadows, a shroud of mist with my name. Beyond the veil of my mortal mathematics, Love playing Go Fish with Compassion. My fridays were burned to ashes and smudged on my forehead. All the words we do not say when we mean them will gang up on us at the shiny iridescent gates of heaven. “I love you” will walk right up and punch you in the stomach, and then kick you when you’re down.
