Dear Santa

All I want for Christmas is a four-year coma.   Sincerely, Nick

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Lost at Sea

When you look at one up close, you see unimaginable details in the iris.  It’s a raw, living terrain of light and color through which another soul looks out from behind a veil of nerves and blood, brewing beneath like magma under the mantle.  But these eyes, her eyes, burned as a tumultuous blue depth,… Continue reading Lost at Sea