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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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10.17.04, sunday afternoon

This week we got another bookcase, which with our other two makes our collection a wall of his and mine, ours, spines bound hard and soft, of every hue and length and width, about birds, stars, cities, colonial prisons, poets, graffiti, Trotsky and more, all pressed up tight against each other.

There is still not enough shelf space, which is okay so far and I wonder if I will still be okay with that dearth of space when we are older.

I don't think there will ever be enough space to contain all our books.




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