This is not a letter, it's much more like a dream.
I'm driving from San Antonio to Austin, marvelling
at the idea that skin could be a country. Make
the taco stands light up at night. A yawn to get
us across the bridge and to get us lost.

I leave every time he comes around. The summer
is hidden somewhere in this spring; did you see it
shining out dangerous from the chrome? Did you
hear it spank the sidewalk? The summer is hiding
and only some of us know where to find it.
posted by Adam at 4:36 PM [edit]