Saturday 3 April 2010

Fury and Future Dust

Lunar sunrises, stellar curries and miracles in space. 13th birthday parties and virgin cocktails that taste like ice cream sundaes. Candy painted nails that draw blood like cat claws, and cat hair all over my clothes. Sinking back into old books like into a bed that remembers your sleeping shape exactly. The heartache of spring fever Mark Twain understood so well, the wisdom of Nelson Mandela that no number of cutting teeth will bring me, and the fullness of everything around me.


Phantogram - Mouth Full of Diamonds




(the sweetest little vintage heart-buckled harem pants, deadstock from a vintage fair; a broken earring bracelet; an old apostolic teaspoon bent into a knuckle-dusting ring)


'Not all those who wander are lost.'
- J.R.R. Tolkein

1 comment:

kerri said...

i miss you so