Tessa, Nothing Will Be The Same

In other news,
the sun came out in full force
and the grass liked it
but we called it a heat wave.

I had my nails done
in blue denim and also
army green and mist came into
Hilary’s eyes.

Orange is the new black–
did anyone see that coming?


Okay, it’s Day 8.

“Write a nothing will be the same poem. A poem about moment after which nothing will ever be the same, because everything will change. Or…
Write a nothing will ever change poem. Maybe you’re in the camp of “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” So while things change, they don’t–not really. Or do they? How can things change and not change? I’m confusing myself.”


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