sadness, even though.
i wish your brain wasn’t going soft like an old fruit, fermenting. and i wish i wasn’t alone, and had a child, for you to lift up and smile at. and it could giggle, and call you Papa Stets. or GrandStets. i wish that all my hard work, could buy your happiness and preserve it. and i wish that getting up out of your bed every day in the basement of someone else’s...