dollyshot
almost diary


Thursday, August 26, 2004  

or if the moon were punctured like a tyre or a dog with its teeth in it

posted by Scout | 4:02 AM
 

She was sitting huddled looking small, like a little boy.
"I'm afraid of the moon," she said. "I knew a girl who used to make butterfly prints with it, that time of month. Bright red dried butterflies."
At school they taught us how to cut each other up.

posted by Scout | 2:26 AM
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