parallel to the mexican border ✩2

✝ somewhere in between brawley and blythe 

parallel to the mexican border ✩1

✝ el cajon area

the heavens so far

I'll miss the afternoons when I'd go out on our lawn and throw my head back. The sky in Seattle is so low, it felt like God had lowered a silk parachute over us. 
Every feeling I ever knew was up in that sky. Twinkling joyous sunlight; airy, giggling cloud wisps; blinding columns of sun. 
Orbs of gold, pink, flesh, utterly cheesy in their luminosity. Gigantic puffy clouds, welcoming, forgiving, repeating infinitely across the horizon as if between mirrors; and slices of rain, pounding wet misery in the distance now, but soon in us, and in another part of the sky, a black stain, rainless.

taken from "Where'd you go, Bernadette" by Maria Semple

up all night to get lucky

prickles

the silent observer

trying to take a hold

✈

furry concrete, leathery bark

immerge into the deepest blues of mind

gun-shy sunshine

thinkin of movin