It was idiocy that made fools like us separate in the most of agonizing ways. I can still remember him telling me about his paradise of sunflowers. Arriving to this dreaded state that once held breathtaking memories of love was heavy on this old heart. The only thing I could do now is drown in the endless stalks of lengthy flowers and before trying forget about those angelic cerulean eyes that had spoken to me about them eons ago, with a marveling enthusiasm that would never falter.

February 14th, 2015, 7pm



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RK Sierra

'I was born a bitch, I was born a painter.' — Frida Kahlo

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