ItsxMagik

she sells sea shells and sea bells and she shells to the fire-ants and the termites housed in the burning drift-wood by the ocean. she burns the driftwood in which live the ants and the termites because she wants to do the same to her lungs in which the sparrows live and breathe. she knows better, she does, but she still writes the letters and christens the paper with her (no)ideas and her oh, dears. she feels the slow-crawling goosebumps over her skin and knows that the inevitable beginning is near. they wont let her linger on in the preface any longer.