expired 120 black and white film.
a dream,
or,
if you prefer,
a nightmare.

by the time you read this ill be long gone pursueing the high seas.
ill leave you with these bits while I am gone,
ill be taking a thousand photographs.

if i could run into the wild and never return,
oh.
i belong out there.

I am leaving to go to isle of palms in a week, as we do each summer.
secluded, quiet, serene.
seven sunny days of bare feet and sandy hair and my skin smelling of salt and sunlight,
little cascades of water droplets falling off my shoulders, in between my toes and everywhere else.
seven endless evenings of nothing but moonlight and the lullabyes of the atlantic,
and me,
alone,
or with the man i love.
either will do.
either always does.

i miss this place, the etches of some dream that keeps resurfacing.
italia.

i fell into a dream with you.

sweets will be the death of me.
but I think that would be a good way to go.
a delicious root beer float from the other day.

and so it begins.