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TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


08.04.12


This morning was so warm, I sweated over the smallest tasks, like applying liquid eyeliner and buying the newspaper. Later, flash rain poured - little rivers rushed down gutters and pedestrians in shorts or light dresses squealed toward cover.

This song reminds me of summertime in Berkeley, drinking chai with pretty girls on a porch as a dog with a thunderous bark lopes after imaginary beasts in the grass and the cries of birds fill the dusk sky. Moonlit mojito, please.






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