Wednesday, June 25, 2008

without any intention in subtlety the bed creaked awake, our old skins in a novel clime. in front of the television (anothernovelty, oh) time passed quickly, sand in mouth. salt water in hairs, sticky and clean. a new combination of sandy beach smells couldn't permeate a perfumed air condition, but it seeped into my clothes and spilled onto my bed. in the mountains, novelty behind, i look, still, at the out of doors with the new eyes. the lightning bugs, still swarming, if broken apart could smear fluorescent on forearms. could brighten a mason jar for a matter of minutes, just til i start twitching, talking to someone who isn't there.

many best parts of the days: stinging saltwater, purifiant. unexpected fulfillment of a childhood romanticism coming back so suddenly that i could only barely enjoy the fantasmic effect, but the bare amt was big, yes. and sweetly, patsy cline sang on the sand.