C. Prince
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Scent notes: woodsmoke lashing your eyelids to salt. The songs you lullaby into blue tarps by starlight. Wet ferns and maplessness. Rainwater pearling fallen pine needles. Wet fleece sweating into your stomach. That smoke that sticks under your fingernails for months. A strange man's mouth-rot swearing it's your fault. |
C. Prince is a marketing consultant and multidisciplinary artist based in New England.