intimate moments


It’s all I wanted.

by Brittany Vipond

from Sunday, July 3, 2011 at 10:32pm

I wanted intimate moments, I wanted them to burn the edge of every photograph the way memories remained distorted

in her only right eye, I wanted the sacrifice of my only left over breathing triangular abstract animal, and it

wouldn’t mean anything to you, and it wouldn’t make any sense if you didn’t see it, if you weren’t there

with me, staring into heaven strait through binocular obsession, real real real, I wanted it more than anything,

I wanted to be safe, within a savior, while saving every splendor, without speaking in any regular manner, without

believing in any transfer, of anything real. It’s all I wanted.


Below, in New Orleans, by Brittany Vipond

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