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Kiwi Crocus
19 August 2009 @ 03:08 am
I was reading Drag King Dreams, thinking about how much I miss activism.

I saw a mosquito in front of my nose. I caught it gently in my hand.

I felt another biting my arm, I caught it in the same hand. I gazed solemnly at my gently clenching fist.

I sighed and opened my fingers. Two unharmed mosquitoes flew out, congregated and split.

I stared at the wall. What is it about me that prevents making the kill? What is it?