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Monday, July 21, 2003 I paint us in lands of elephants and emporers. I spell places where I look at you through silk robes, and tempt you with fruit and incence. I close my eyes and can smell the richness of life a new. When my eyes open I see we are where we were before. Outside is the sound of afternoon traffic. (archives | details | blogger) Friday, July 04, 2003 The heavy humidity weighed down upon us gripping tighter as the sun continued to rise. We scrambled from one airconditioned space to the next, fanning ourselves with our hands. The sweat would bead up and slide down riding the ski hill of your nose until it dropped off and splashed on the concrete sidewalk. Later we wiggled in between sheets of soft cotton wearing only the heat and a smile. |