What’s my age again

Falling in love makes me sick, with nausea and insomnia,

chain-smoking in bars with bad lighting

that will make my dark circles seem less

Eating has taken its toll on me

Sleeping has me dizzy with bad dreams

while intercourse, champagne and writing turn vaguely meaningless

Friends come and go

flights are close but I get no rush of blood

to the heart

Love is a deserter

What’s the point in living,

anyway?

*crêpe de Chine dress, my mother’s

*pictures by the lovely Adriana Neagu

* hair, makeup and PS by myself

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