My Mother’s Ghost Sits Next to Me at the Hotel Bar (with recording)

My Mother’s Ghost Sits Next to Me at the Hotel Bar Blue-tinted and red-mouthed, you light a cigarette that glows green between your lips and smells of menthol and old coffins, burnt fruit and days carved into lonely minutes. I mumble hello, and because you never speak, order a tulip of double IPA, which the […]

My Mother’s Ghost Sits Next to Me at the Hotel Bar (with recording)

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