Splendor in a Dark Year
- Jon Hoel
- Mar 5, 2018
- 1 min read
He who wants honey must abide the bees. But, the bees are going— Our glazed eyes avert.
I am the speakeasy, I will tremble against the amaranthine snows forever. My brittle bones crumble, I crumble.
You will encounter one million different people in your whole life.
As part of a world more meaningful.
You read a gently worn book on dog fighting and the dogs never win. This, this is our history. Intersectional, but indifferent.
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