the destroyer > text > Parker Tettleton
STEPS TALK, A PORCH REMINDS MEI don’t know if I want this to be the first sentence—there’s a two-story
house masquerading as a friend’s last night before Seattle. Everybody
kisses you when I run—I mean you say the biggest, the best-worst
thing you briefly think of under the influence of an infinite amount of
amounts. I work at swimming. My eyebrows sign for packages. My
mother loves me.