i still pretend that you love me.
she smells like cherries
the first ones of the season
nine dollars for a small plastic carton
made only to help a landfill inch taller
the stain I find on my lips
still tastes like her heart racing
when I leaned in a little bit closer
all I can think about is
the slight part of her lips
brushing against mine
11. photography makes you immensely joyful, perhaps more so than writing. your camera is waiting for you when you are ready to find your creative voice again.