Jun 23, 2015
㊛
send me a ㊛ and my muse will describe what you muse smells like to them;ACCEPTING
medicine, in both plastic-coated capsules, glass bottles sucking sunlight and herbs drying in wooden window frames, twine around stems too old to support any flower. steam; empty and hot in a room where sunlight comes through broken glass in beams and prisms not sweat but skin that knows it well, age written in linen and a clean-cut authority, half deference, half unquestionable experience. not floral but plant, not chemical but medicinal; and as always, there is the dust of the mojave, hot and heavy and evocative.
