we swab with alcohol the arm of a man who is being put to death by lethal injection so he does not get an infection from the needle meant to kill him. what strange and terrible times we live in.

it's a cool, damp summer night. i'm here alone entangling the crisp sheets in my legs. everything seems to have a soft, unfocused ring to it on nights like these. something about nights like these focuses my mind on taking it all in. whatever IT may be. right now i am a razor and am enjoying my night as my thoughts come to rest. it's times like these on nights like these when my thoughts come solely and slowly to rest on missing you. the ache of missing you could be ameliorated if i knew you were missing me too.