|
2001-04-23 || 10:08 a.m. || our lady of the perpetual blush. || i am trying to find the ocean on you. sand on your scalp. your skin salty and hot. we are terribly sunburnt in the funniest places. on his feet. on my forehead. a stripe across my stomach. we are making clumsy efforts toward summertime. we drive around cliffs and hills, zen centers and housing developments we will never be able to afford, to the beach. we stretch a blanket across the sand and lie down, under hoodies and jackets, fully clothed. we drift in and out of sleep, speculate at the temperature of the water, make up stories about the people around us in bikinis, in winter coats, wearing shoes and socks, getting burnt to a perpetual blush, who are just as confused as we are about how to proceed. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |