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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() I have a photograph of that night. You’ll see in it what you’ve already memorised inside. Where I’m writing this there’s a thunderstorm from my childhood been beating against the window. Outside, this morning a person stood under the streetlights so garish and loud that the second person not too far away looked like the unfinished shadow of the first. You can fill that in.
You can call it. Our hands from two different worlds, joining? Sunsets. Moonrise. How terraces hold us. Memories cross our minds like planes But never do leave or land. It's love to fall from the sky and still be falling. I found you. The way darkness tells itself about the origins of light. And did we talk about God? I think we talked about God. Did you kiss me with a past instead of the future? I remember that too. (The phone rang in your leaving). Listen, I have a photograph of that night. In it you will see love: the moon hung loose from its shaking. Night: an endless vocabulary of darkness. Someone looks up and the whole world is spelled out. And at this very moment: Everyone’s thinking of someone. Everyone’s writing about someone. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
September 2023
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