OLYMPIA( sofi nadia & zachary scott hamilton) correspondence between a span of 10 years

A letter from Sofi

Zebyn, Baylu, Feb, 5, 04
I don’t know where to begin. 
When I first moved into my
home I used my black boots
to prop open my window. It is 
always cold in my room.
Tuesday night Outlaw was hit 
by a car. he is doing well, but 
the experience has reminded 
me of our mortality, and of
our curse and blessing in the 
ability to realize that we are. 
I live in routine. Wake, sleep,
work, drink. I do not drink anymore.
And now I think. And think.
it is hard to remember how
to hope. What it is to love. It is
hard to understand how i want
to live - and to follow through 
with it. 
It is hard to be and not 
become dead with thought
and sadness.
I am married to daydream.
Reality mostly feels like 
a day dream. I find my
heart beating too quickly, and 
breathe fast and short. 
It is your birthday soon. 
Years in a day have passed since
the summer. So much change and 
not at all. 
It is your birthday in four 
days. You will be 19
{Signed} Sofi k

I am broken tin,
watching the birds with oil wings
indifferently follow
the loosing wind.
I threw a blood rose into
the sea
and let myself collapse.

The crows that used to 
accompany me are gone
my tears are reckless
as I abandon my skin.


LOVE Familiarity (in GREEK, Storge)
Friendship (Philia)
Romantic desire(eros)
Diving love (agape)


Never Piss numbers at her door, she is the woman, swallowing the lights of the formed chamber.


Lines in my bones to a marble tongue -
all of the children but none of us, our letters--
God unicorn, wallowing Egypt, I looked for your wrists
Lord, they’re
in my mind. I looked for the curve of your small nails handling our cigarette
collective., that burned to a butt inside the ashtray -

I left your memories at state route 85, to press together
tears in a present, box with wrapping paper - none of your hair, three packs of coffee, and one pack of coffee, and six cups of cigarette - and i found a bag of hash brown’s
on the ground - Latin Amor, Greek Eros, Greek Agape -

Living plastic gnome, and succulent hunger - in pale tobacco loops -
Hair  stiff in a marble tongue, eroded Walter tongue. The giant sandwich walls, holy bible hunger, and portfolio floating clouds, within balloon hands -these rain turning 


i miss the shallow reach for a solitude I have created with my new letter in the attic - it takes a fishing line 
before I make it through her writing - special me - a whole extended leaf -
calm from her makeup, all reckless flowers drifting -
Greek Philia, Latin Amor, Greek Agape