Everything is quiet. Everything is very still. I dig my toes into the lazy earth. Time slows and the evening flows like honey. I pull my knees to my chest and watch with half-awake eyes.
I remember walking with you down a dirt road at four in the morning. The horizon buzzed like a gap-toothed cheshire cat smile spread wide above our heads. We were chasing black dogs and dancing lights. A question slid beneath the canvas of the evening, hid in long, berry-bruised shadows, dripped from the sky like strawberry jam.
It beckoned to be tasted. And it tasted like love.
Or a waking dream. Now Autumn is lifting the summer heat from the soil as she lays her cool bones to rest.
The leaves will be falling soon. I roll my affection into the open, close my eyes, and I wait.
12:14 am • 5 September 2012 • 14 notes
Black Magic & Magnolia Suns
Incense, sandalwood, and a half lit cigarette rest by the window in the bedroom of my new apartment. Soft rain drops in small intervals. The air is sultry. It’s heat, soil, and salt. It’s the promise of a new summer. Late nights turn into magnum colored dawns. Unfamiliar faces slowly smile. I pour my sixth cup of gin. Pangs of love-gone-by still prick somewhere deep inside from time to time, but followed without regret. I’ve let go, but I’m not quiet sure I’m ready to move on, just yet. The hot summer is wide open. I only have to walk out the door.
8:48 pm • 27 May 2012 • 4 notes
Dog Days of Summer
Everyone seems busy, tired, and a little lonely, myself included. I’ve caught the summer by the tail end. July has sprung into action and my bathing suit has been nothing but dry. I’ve joined this club everyone who hates their job goes to after work, it’s called the bar. I never saw myself gaining the habit, but I guess getting older does that to you, like a lot of things. I’m not sure where all of this is going, I guess I just want to begin putting some things on here that are a little more personal. My grandfather has come home, he’s swearing, maybe he’s drunk? Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, I live with my eighty-five year old grandfather in an old victorian house. It’s a long story, but not as quiant as many would imagine. Either way I have to get ready now. There is work to be done tomorrow and I still have to get to the club.
9:43 pm • 1 July 2011 • 3 notes
Went out for a beer last night and found this little guy.
11:14 am • 23 May 2011 • 2 notes