by Conor Harris
1. sext: you are a super-dense train accelerating toward the sun and I am the comet you happened to pull out of orbit I will watch you burn then implode and become something that people who live forevers away will look to for answers but all that will be left is your gorgeous broken littering the universe and I will pick up the pieces of you as I make my way to crash into the earth and end all chances for memory or hanging out either of us ever had. choo-choo
2. sext: at my state line there is a bridge between one state and the other and every time I cross is I hold my breath and think of kissing you until the river dries up beneath it and there is no longer a need for a bridge to bring people together between far away places and lines this land is our land so hold my fucking hand already and we can make the landmarks jealous. crumble crumble
3. sext: eat an orange with seeds, kiss me, put the seeds in my mouth, and I will take a vow of silence until I find a perfect coastline where the water crushes the shore gentle, like a stone on your chest that slowly gets heavier; here I’ll spit the seeds out and they will grow and thirty years from now somebody’s children will eat oranges grown from our saliva and our love and this is how we will follow the biological imperative to reproduce
4. fate is not real and neither is the universe and I am not a waste of your time
Conor Harris called us from Boise, ID.
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