Hiding Place
i am everybody’s favorite hiding place, everyone’s bedroom closet and under-the-staircases where they wrote letters as a kid and packed a suitcase to run away with, the nooks and crannies they breathed deeply in, escaped family dinners in, hurt themselves in, i am a thousand empty spaces of wood, cement, aluminum, flesh and bone, yet i don’t seem to be animated yet, a real person yet. i am a thousand […]
Melancholy Hyperbole 