December 2009
49 posts
Cinco →
mypeterpancomplex:
caravans:
the clouds like milk, falling into tea, a mushroom cloud in a beige wash sea; they move like spiders, flicker like strobes. the sun flashes by like the torch in morse code. night sucks the colour from the saturated homes, as the trees stand bare with silhouetted bones. soft reflections. fading shadows where the memories of today are no longer there.
Peter Bjorn and John - Amsterdam
Dreaming about coffee →
by yaelfran
