Goodnight, you moonlight ladies
the last of my vacation ramblings, jet lagged feelings on James Taylor and flashes of Tupperware
There is a color in my memory; orange, deep and vibrant and rich like an impossible piece of fruit sitting atop a mound of otherwise lackluster citrus. It is the stain on the surface of a water jug made of Tupperware, if Tupperware is indeed a substance in this world and not just a legitimate-business-scheme word for plastic. It has a lid that is off-wh…
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