"she glanced at the airmail stamps and postmark"
bostonpoetryslam:
“Probably, ghosts are allergic to us. Our uproarious breathing & ruckus. Our eruptions, our disregard for dust.” — Terrance Hayes, from American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin
“Probably, ghosts are allergic to us. Our uproarious breathing & ruckus. Our eruptions, our disregard for dust.”
— Terrance Hayes, from American Sonnets for My Past and Future Assassin
(via writewhatisleft)
shittycryptids:
Distant but persistent banjo music
(via queerpyracy)