to lose both looks like carelessness.

colour: piazza new york catcher, belle & sebastian
sound: chartreuse

but, once in the open air, she paused. some emotion - pity, terror, love, but the emotion was strong - seized her, and she was aware of autumn. summer was ending, and the evening brought her odours of decay, the more pathetic, because they were reminiscent of spring. that something or other mattered intellectually? a leaf, violently agitated, danced past her, while other leaves lay motionless. that the earth was hastening to re-enter darkness, and the shadows of those trees to creep over windy corner?

- e.m. forster, room with a view

i'm all curled in
my velveteen
armchair, re:
watching 'the
bakery girl
of monceau.'

it's for class,
& i like my
outfit today,
the weather;
i made morning
coffee strong
and dull.

it's been such
a nice week.
sunlight, our
open coats,
picnics of
orangina
& chevre.

tea dates,
wilde nights,
filtering new
albums, stories
& unexplained
feelings of
stagnance.

we've traded
places & i know
you are trying
to impress me now.
leave impressions
in dry cement,
i am years far
removed.

32 short films,
& the goldberg
variations, i
am about to do
something
(what thing?)
desperately
living.

yesterday,
i watched
snowflakes
falling, fat
against the
ceiling for
hours.

everything
feels small.