"it's why we move
or go
to paris
to austin
filling wells that empty here
our little buckets of hope
love defeats us
sometimes when
invisible hands
curl fingers round
a memory we held
in a picture frame in our heart
to send longing into the wind
there are things ok
that are not ok
for books
that are unfinished
write forever before us
stories not to know until
in quiet spring
paris or austin
a river will give up its mystery
break vermilion and aster
onto our tongues
sing now
of empty frames
of us in pretty light
or when the wind returns
what is ours"
theory labs on a cold afternoon
film in rodinal - 35mm - los angeles
