Whose face will the traces for her pomegranate lip balm rent?
Who’ll father her child?
Who’ll keep her warm?
Who’ll wrap their lean thigh around her hip?
Who’ll love her like clay?
Who’ll she leave the door unlocked for?
Oh you, you gifted sweater wearing seeing hearing good-music-appreciating raw-writing thinking colorful person,
It has only been hours since I left, how come I miss you already? This beach house daddy rented for the holidays is huge. Humongous considering it’s only the three of us. Seasonal vacation houses are peculiar, piled on top of each other, they are not built for one particular family but to appeal to all those who stay here. Cold yet comforting, a little like you. Continue reading
At an after party, clad in a pair of fitted denim- Japanese, raw and selvage with a tapered leg – whose folded cuffs augment his swagger. Finished with mother of pearl buttons, the grid-check shirt is expertly crafted; it also features a single chest pocket and a curved hem. Although the maroon cardigan was procured from a vintage store in Detroit, it was knitted in Scotland and is a lesson in luxury. And shoes are a modern interpretation of standard issue military boots worn during WWII. They’re made of hard-wearing leather that was chrome-tanned in Chicago. Continue reading
We, Seymour and I, have decided to leave. It wasn’t an easy decision because:
a) it’s not in our nature to leave someone behind and,
b) us both, we love you. Continue reading