not sleeping anymore

awkward silence

I’ve never seen anything like these orange colored streets. Everything I look at appears like the face of a postcard, pretty, but transient, and traveling someplace else. I dreamt last night, about them. And I could remember which ones lost their leaves first. But in the daytime, which is grabbing my hand like a tightened wrist- band, I am only worried about the trees losing their leaves because I remember how long it took for them to grow back.
And still they feel warm and soft but dry in their death, sort of like the sea and cake, two things which obviously don’t co-exist and yet seem to taste good anyway.

posted by d @ 11:13 PM