There are words that pull over your teeth like cashmere. You’ll repeat them under your breath, training your tongue to slide between consonants, glide on vowels. Claret. Brandish. Halcyon. Lithe. Others, you promise to write them down the moment you find a pen, but they’re gone until the next time you find them in a magazine article or Shaw play. You circle them but never return to that page, and lose them once again.
Source: dyinginback
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dyinginback posted this
24, feminist, writes some stuff sometimes.
