The Geologist

Submitted by kamenamagazine on

by Willow Orton When I pick out stones from the gravel in the mid-day sun, I choose only the smoothest, or the prettiest, (or the ones with nails driven through them) so that I can put on a show for you. Once I become The Geologist, I have forgotten what writing feels like, but I have remembered how to use my hands.

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