Saturday, January 22, 2011

Two Camilla

Eternal tunnel

The beach in winter is mostly vacant, but it's still warm enough to walk barefoot through the shallowest ends of the waves. No orange skinned half naked people engaged in rituals on colorful blankets. The tide brings up mundane things that become strange. One day, I find ten separate gloves, none of them a match to each other, coughed up on the sand by the water and left alone.

"He Never Came Back, IV"
Happy birthday to me. Yay.

1 comment:

brudeblogg said...

Happy birthday to you! :)