I looked under the sink, a Winchell’s mug; above the dryer on the shelves with exiled scraps; below a pack of dehydrated Sharpies, to the right of poor Elmer, also parched. I might’ve left it there when I was five…or six? I must’ve lost it but don’t you think by 19 I would have found it if it was ever somewhere at all? Not found in the kitchen, the search continued abov … [Read more...] about Old Bodies Leave Indentations on the Clouds