Is sometimes a battle, maybe most of the time. A fight between getting the truth down on paper and sliding into soppy sentimentality.
I'm getting closer to the bone on this new poem. Liking it more. I'm going to ask Zen and Amanda to critique it. But it's not quite ready. I've got another month, six weeks before the deadline.
Don't know why he's clothed in the shower, and don't care.
Freaking LOVE this picture!
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