untitled.

the bright shine of madness is on the table by the larkspur blue as the pacific, once it’s been cropped and photoshopped. i drew in an image of my hand waving (hello or goodbye? or does it even matter?) and tucked a sprig of the flower in with the picture because you said it reminded you of me, the color of sad. even though after all these years i don’t think that’s a color you can pin down in a photograph. and nature would always have it a shade darker than i could capture, but the sharp glint of mania is quicker than the erasure of a pixilated image, and more deeply hued than the edge of a piece of paper as it burns.

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