Sex, Frogs, and the New Political Order
“If you opened me up you would find no redness, no veins, only a political thunderstorm.”
You look like you’d be a compassionate lover.
Is this the mountains episode?That glacier is my vagina
in flagrante delicto.
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When I search for my father, I feel his numbers. Here’s a house number on my friend’s street that mimics the first few digits of my father’s phone. Here, at the 7/11, my receipt totals the amount of the last four digits of his SSN.
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I felt a down spell in my persistent belief in possibility—a sense that something within me once felt unremitting, but had since been stretched to its limit.