Josie Aslakson

“New year’s written word felts the pen rather than vice versa. I hear the words mourn a lost love. I feel the girl drown under eons of good intention. I free the ankles that were once shark bait– tear a hole in this landslide of an undedicated love story. I couldn’t remember what you said about dedication until I showed up half asleep to the half time of your annual celebratory annulment. Can you believe the songs we sing exist too as violence– not soft speak? The baby in you dawns a teal blue baptismal gown; we just haven’t talked about it yet. I will go picking Fuchsia’s stoney flowers while she is away in England. In Ireland, we could visit in the blink of an eye.

I will see you again so just leave a place at dinner.” -jla

Thanks for the inspiration, Ft. Worth.


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