10:35 p.m.
dear stephanie,

The long day finally closes. I'm finally going to bed. I guess all I needed in order to relax adequately enough to try to sleep was your reassurance that you were still there, and still willing to inhabit the rooms and palaces I've made for you in the chambers of my heart.

There's a cool wind blowing in between the blades of my venetian blinds, blowing across my sunburnt skin. I'm listening to Red House Painters, "San Geronimo" -- oh, this has just changed to 4Tet's "Pause." It's expansive and crystalline, this music -- much like this wind that blows across me from faraway, bearing the scent of distant jasmine and horizon, bearing the faint sting of the faraway rolling sea.

Dream, and I will dream you will take me with you in your dream. Everything illuminated grows heavy and weary, I must go lay down, I must go to bed.

Tomorrow.

I love you.

Goodnight.

the Funny Show

agriculture poem

my life in the ghost of Bush

time-lapsed (part 1)

unreconciled

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Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.

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