we must of been
half drunk and crazy
landing our bodies in the glen park district of SF
at a party filled with
middle age
socalites and the beauty was in
the balcony
hanging over the veiw,
looking down at the glory of
all the dark of hollow ween
and the lit up sidewalks of streets
below
and the winds picking up, and
the rain is falling in the east bay.
if you don't leave yr home much
the experience of the outside world
metamorphs more colorful.
shades of language
deep touch the
:::::::::::::::::::::::beauty
the decaying moment
of our little plight-venture.
professional photos of our redneck costumes
that felt more like our skin then our
personality and the saddness is in the rain
the pouring tears of god as he looks upon his
hope
the joy of the cold and the friendship of our deepest love
and the falling feeling
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