| :satellite of love: |
[11 Aug 2003|05:54pm] |
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mood |
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 bored |
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music |
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:tristan´s band: |
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excerpt: 11.08.03-1:15-tristan´s bed
i followed the shadows of moonlight upon my shoulder, the black creases of fabric complemented by the blue-white of my dirty white shirt. i slowly lifted my eyes to the full moon that followed our tiny car rushing through the Mallorcan countryside, stone walls spotlighted by the highbeams, black aspahlt stretching into only more darkness. a few orphan strands of hair escaped from my sagging ponytail and tickled my cheek and nose as the warm summer air forced its way to the backseat of the car. lisa´s head bobbed offbeat to lou reed and i realized a ´perfect day´. the air pushed thoughts of falling from an airplane, ferris whells, curly hair in the park, postcards, empty bars, toes in the water, my sleeping bag, tree branches, mazes, orange subways, head on shoulders, bench, goodbyes.
at the end of the day, after a big dinner and long siesta, one realizes that heat does strange things to the brain-and to the heart.
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