I'm back to talk about myself some more.

[newsclippings]

You're bound to have it saved somewhere?

The twist of the hand? The fly? Come on...

That's why I like paper.

Nope.

---

Shit. I found the original on my blog:

hand twists, bolt echos
fly down stairways you’ve seen smiling over your shoulder
through perfect circular mud puddles
this was coming,
night (cue my last thought)
this came (it’s too early to be alone)—
—
the night is for the missed smells and burnt thoughts
for hands held and tired exalts,
the night is for us, not me.