02 Sunday Oct 2011
Posted in memories
there used to be a classic car show every summer where my family lived. as i walked among the shiny two-tone hardtops and convertibles i found myself crying, happened every year. the only way i can describe it or understand it is nostalgia for innocence.
on okc i just added a classic car question, i want to be the white thunderbird convertible from American Graffiti.
01 Saturday Oct 2011
Posted in pomes
imagine you lying on your stomach, your head turned to the side, cradled on your arms
sun drenched shoulders
sprinkled with a light shower of freckles
the tawny feathers under your arms
the dip your back makes at the waist
a pair of dimples atop your rump
curves, no sharp angles
back of thighs and calves, well defined, tapered at the ankle
luscious
heartbeatwonderings 