I haven’t worked out the details on how or when he dies, but I find myself weeping as I create glittered messes after finding an old photo of him wrapped in a green scarf.
Sights of Narrowleaf Milkweed by Adriana Gonzalez
Tag: adriana gonzalez
The Inland Empire by Adriana Gonzalez
You slid a daisy stem behind your ear. We were fifteen, and you were well, and your bangs were always in your face.
