looking at the world through fuzzy eyes in the sun, my sun, the air reminds me of old dreams, slightly rusted with an aged hint of love hanging on them but no longer the real texture of it. creases appear suddenly, and it's best not to be ashamed. the evening breeze feels like an empty promise, but i still hang on to it...
moments worth capturing: sinking into the indian ocean under the milky way, contemplating sails & watching fires explode in the sky; each one of them heavy with a story; all of them stories to take out of the year & burn in glory. feelings of completeness come at you suddenly, & it's hard not to drown in them. how powerful that is. a...
sunlight declares a peace it doesn't possess, drenching the world in quiet; quiet like your eyes when they turned into the night. people show their true selves in the words they use on sundays, after all the friday night smiles have been washed out & what remains is anxiety or tenderness, & the soft rustle of red & yellow leaves on the ground,...
finally a halt, after mad, noisy rushes watching learners cross pens and lips in an attempt to pull something pretty out of the world in passing. your desert boots are not made for kicking anyone, so you climb up walls instead, and split them open to let in the autumn air and dead leaves. cover yourself in them, and let the music wash...
coming home late at night in a hot daze and crashing on the sofa blasting the naked and famous, it's just me and my heartbeat and the night and the sky is beautiful. something about the softness of the night makes me stay awake in a haze, i could write into dawn. life is a series of soft and hard textures; here it...