home | | | | | |archive | | | | | |profile | | | | | |notes | | | | | |previous | | | | | |next


2017-12-29
computer lab, 1985


I approach the lighthouse in dusk of red wine.

A house falls down in dreams of old neighborhoods. The grass is static all grey afternoon.

I welcome the crash of waves,

the drowning of memories.



previous | next