The only time I've dreamed of flying I was laying next to you wrapped in white sheets. Originally written April 12 2018, in a room with sparkling lights.
Don't test a Scorpio with your ambiguity. Originally written August 2017, sketched April 2018 in a tap room.
Cello strings and bare feet on a dirty dance floor Hanging up scotch for water, neat in an empty tap room. Originally written February 21 2018, in a crowded tap room.
I see you in a million shades of blue moving water lit by the sun, in daybreak and dusk burning up stars, and sad notes seeping in minor chords from speakers drenched in nostalgia. Originally written February 18 2018, DeSoto Falls in Alabama.
We never could shake that magic. Your dreams stirred my dreams with nothing but sheets between us, and even still with cacti and pines and palms and all this time and space. That Galician word you repeated unfettered whispered itself in my head the night before my eyes even saw it. And it's all that… Continue reading Sillage
Such a fragile spine to carry that pretty mind. Your verse tastes like sweat and cigarettes; I'm draped in silk and unpolished steel. Originally written October 23 2017, on a rooftop bar in downtown Fort Myers.