I wasn't going to say it.
Then you turned around and I forgot how to be a person about it.
a hoard, recovered — depth 10 928 m
She is kept here. Sealed in brine and brass. Every token she ever left, dragged down where the light gives up — catalogued, labelled, never returned.
descend ↓
I wasn't going to say it.
Then you turned around and I forgot how to be a person about it.
rishiri kombu, 09.04
she does this. she leaves a light on.
for K. — side B
us, the pier, 1997
“Some things you love by keeping them where no one can take them. That is also how you lose them.”
she'd hold these up to the light. every time.
— yours, more than you knew
lock of hair, dark, tied with fishing line
polaroid, 1997 — image dissolved, frame intact
her left earring (the right was never found)
voice memo, 0:47 — never played
a movie ticket, the film forgotten, the date not
sea glass × 3, sorted by colour and by year
a single fish bone, kept for no reason she'd admit
the word “okay”, said in a way that meant the opposite
kanojo.love