COLLABORATION WITH DYLAN JONES.

I could smell my yellow-gray carpets everywhere, only walking into rooms by backing out of other rooms, the hanging senses sticking to the back of my throat making me

Thirsty, fishing in a slow river until I turn into one.

And then ten hands hanging a picture we all like.

Young people in love are never hungry.

MOM WITH A BROKEN CHAIR.

GRAVE DANGER.

METAPHOR.

I rarely swim far from the edge, now that I know what's down there.

BAD DOG.

ROOMMATES ARE SICK.

MAKEOVER.

INSIDE JOKE.

Ever since the big fight I've been thinking about going to the chiropractor, but I feel like that's a slippery slope.

NOSEBLEED.

LONG NIGHT.

BIG SPENDER.