A Hole in the NieghborhoodStreet sense, no sense, your sense, my sense-s. Hue likes to make things sound too important; I walk alone to the old diner where the one works. Shell be busy beyond belief, sorting dirty dishes of busy mouths, wearing a shirt thats much to big for her small frame, and a visor that just doesnt quite suit her. The thought provokes smiles of the regulars.More Like This
Im catching small breezes from passing cars, its overcast, but its humid and I can smell you. Today you were made of paper.
Hue wonders what it would be like to taste spicy ramen off your mouth, and to draw and write into the early morning. I want to slide into your chest, using my words as the shoe-horn, and hope its the snug fit of two people who have paid into the system, thus not getting much in return but each other. Today I wrote in ink. Hue went through all their old books, and marked the pages of passages they wanted to share, but didnt know how to read. Ive