An interlude in Cincinnati in which I write poetry, make art, pray to trees and finally sleep with an out lesbian.
You’re bringing back so many memories of that time, our “community.” How you could find it in pockets, and there was a familiarity to it, like a recipe for curry, with regional variation.
Devouring these chapters. I've been in a reading slump for months? years? but I can't put this down.
You’re bringing back so many memories of that time, our “community.” How you could find it in pockets, and there was a familiarity to it, like a recipe for curry, with regional variation.
Devouring these chapters. I've been in a reading slump for months? years? but I can't put this down.