lawnmowers everywhere

I

I’m a seasonal creature. I’d like to blame the obsessive-compulsive disorder, but I can’t very well pathologize every quirk, every tic. Some things are features, not bugs.

I divide my life in four, in twelve, in fifty-two: wherever I can see dichotomy, I milk it. It’s spring. Time to do Spring Things. Which are worlds apart from summer from autumn from winter things.

III

II

Spring things are birth and agency and everything we’ve missed through our snowy shackles. Drama and fluorescence and heady breezes signaling heartbeats ever faster. Sequins, absinthe, and naked extravagance.

VII IX

Carbon Leaf, Celtic Woman, and medieval polkas.

VIII

jump

To life.

V VIII

XIII XII

 

Author: skye

I aspire to be a bright-eyed girl in a big city, even though I wear glasses and live in what amounts to a hole in the ground.

3 thoughts on “lawnmowers everywhere”

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