My brain had been swiped clean.
I couldn’t love
songs I loved; friends came
nameless as mailmen.
A loaf of dough
forbidden to rise,
I’m slid into the hollow magnet.
Din of dozen arcade games, but louder.
…
My brain had been swiped clean.
I couldn’t love
songs I loved; friends came
nameless as mailmen.
A loaf of dough
forbidden to rise,
I’m slid into the hollow magnet.
Din of dozen arcade games, but louder.
…
Rachel Cusk photo courtesy the author.
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