Time Without Consequence

untitled. by edmund_li

It was the year I didn't read a single book. not cover to cover anyway. i would only read half of them, sometimes less, and get lost in worries. half drunk cups of coffee. half drunk friends. it was the year rubber tires turned to bodies and worn down pavement. the year i learned the joy of looking at lips when someone speaks and the importance of pomegranates. it was the year of the ox. steady plain quiet. impulsively shoving food into its belly and cursing the cold. it was the year my sister thought she would marry and didnt. it was the year i lost you, but you know that. the year i learned that genetics and never taught lessons will unwelcomely ressurect themselves. like a ghost or a familiar perfume. the curls of smoke. the edges of beds. one letter. two just right gifts. a frozen cup of tea. a silent birthday. hips sway. heels blister. an oven full of fire.

someone get the champagne.